


The Monster Inside

by MarmeLady_Orange



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Blood and Torture, Castiel is almost graceless, Child Death, Cruelty, Dark, Dean is not a cute demon, Demon!Dean, Discussion of Abortion, He's vicious and nothing like we know and love, I hope I didn't miss any tags, Language, M/M, Major character death - Freeform, Miracle Pregnancy, Mpreg, Murder, Post-Season/Series 09, Rape/Non-con Elements, Sad with a side of atrocious, Series Spoilers, Suicidal Thoughts, Unhappy Ending, Violence, Vomiting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-11
Updated: 2014-09-27
Packaged: 2018-02-17 01:19:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 18
Words: 22,284
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2291660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MarmeLady_Orange/pseuds/MarmeLady_Orange
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Dean wakes up as a demon, it’s with a hunger deep in his gut. After trying, and failing, to kill his brother, he leaves the bunker in search of anything to quench his thirst of blood and violence. When an almost graceless Castiel finds him, he takes all he's never let himself have as a human. Sam finds a violated Castiel three days later and brings him back to the bunker, only to find that the demon has left the angel with a parting gift. Sam sees the angel’s unnatural pregnancy as a way to smoke his brother out and refuses to kill Castiel and his unborn child. But when Dean learns he's going to be a father, he snatches Castiel right back. Now all Sam hopes is that he’ll be able to find and cure Dean before the abomination can be born.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I've been having this idea for a while now... it's violent, and dark, and all sorts of not cute and fluffy.
> 
> I've written most of it already and I've been debating posting it or not. Because it's not my usual type of writing, but mostly because I'm not sure it'll sit well with many readers. Then I decided that it was my story and that I'd make sure I used enough warning tags that those who 'd read would know what they were getting into.
> 
> Still... I'm kind of sorry... but this is the type of reading, and writing, that I like the most. I like dark, twisted and heartwrenching. If you like that too, I hope this fic will satisfy you.

When Dean opened his eyes, he was back in his room instead of on the concrete floor where he remembered dying. Next to his bed was standing the King of Hell, the same one whose voice he's been hearing, plaguing his mind with the order to wake up.

As he sat on the bed he realised he was holding the First Blade, his whole body thrumming in tune with the jawbone that felt all but fused to his hand. Almost on its own accord, his arm flung at the demon who was able to flee before he could be sliced in half.

It’s not that Dean wanted to kill Crowley specifically… he just knew he wanted, needed, to kill something.

Dean got off the bed then creeped out in the hall. His first thought was to go to Sam’s room but he found it empty. The need to kill only grew stronger as Dean roamed the bunker in search of someone, anyone, to help extinguish the fire in his gut.

The demon found Sam kneeling before the summoning material he had used before. He thought the other man looked so pathetic, hunched over the smoking bowl, mumbling angry incantations for Crowley to come and save his dear brother. _“If only you knew, Sammy,”_ Dean thought with a sneer, bringing the blade up to hover over his brother’s back.

Sam’s acute hunter senses tingled. He felt the shift of the air in the room, heard the rustle of moving fabrics, smelt the stench of sulfur. He just had time to jump forward and turn around towards his attacker, Ruby’s knife drawn before him. His brother’s arm was coming down on him in a stabbing motion, the First Blade in his hand. When Sam looked up at his face, he saw his eyes. They were black.

“Oh God… Dean… It’s me, it’s Sam…” he pleaded while getting up, hoping his brother would fight the demon inside like he himself did before.

“Of course you are. Why do you think I’m trying to kill you?” Dean replied, unaffected, walking towards his brother with his blade erected again.

“You’re not you– ”

“And what? Grab a Snickers? That’s where you’re wrong, Sammy… I wasn’t me before. Not since I was brought back from Hell. This – _this_ – is who I am.”

Sam brought Ruby’s blade up in front of himself. When Dean attacked, Sam had no choice but to retaliate, resulting in each stabbing the other. Luckily for Sam, it wasn’t anywhere fatal wherefore Dean, it should have been. But instead of crumbling on the floor to die, the demon threw his head back and laughed.

“Ah, Sammy,” he purred, giving his brother his most feral grin. “Your little blade can’t kill me. I’m not fucking possessed, you moron. It’s all pure Dean Winchester under here,” he explained, tapping two fingers to his temple. “Isn’t that just awesome?”

“I don’t want to kill you– ” Sam started, his stare never faltering from his brother’s.

“And that’s why I love you, little brother,” Dean cut him off, moving towards him.

“But I will if it means I can save you from this,” Sam finished before attacking Dean again, slashing at his neck with the knife before running out of the room.

There was no way Sam could win a fight against a demonized version of his brother, not without help. Dean knew him too well and would be able to predict his moves, read his tells. He ran to the garage and grabbed the first set of keys he saw. Running past the Impala, he took a second to slash the two tires on one side then jumped in the mint green car he had snatched the keys for.

Had he taken the time to choose, he would not have picked that one, it was much too constraining for his tall frame. Still, he didn’t fuss as he knew it wasn’t permanent. All he needed to do now was to get far enough from the bunker to dump this car and highjack a new one. He didn’t care if he’d have to do this over and over, he just couldn’t have his brother hot on his tail right now. Even if it meant that he would eventually regret losing sight of Dean. All he knew was that at that very moment, he wasn’t prepared to deal with the bearer of the mark.

In the bunker’s garage, Dean looked at the Thunderbird speed off with an amused smirk, not worried in the slightest that he’d find his brother again soon. Unrushed, he walked to his own car and saw that it was tipping suspiciously to one side. Getting closer, he noticed the two flat tires on the passenger’s side.

“Oh, Sammy… why did you have to go and do that for?” Dean said with a pout before getting in the Impala and starting her up.

Not minding the flapping sound the tires were making, Dean made his way out of the garage, intended on finding the hunter sooner rather than later. Except he didn’t know where Sam had gone, not for sure anyway. He decided to go with his instincts and drive to the biggest and closest town around.

When Dean reached Smith Center, Ks, it didn’t take him long to find Sam’s dumped car on Main Street. And of course, he had already snatched another one and left town. Seeing how he couldn’t know where or what his brother was driving, Dean appraised the other cars parked nearby to see if anything caught his fancy. Well... the T-bird _was_ nice.

Yet, thinking of all the treasures hidden in the trunk changed Dean’s mind, convincing him to keep the Impala instead. He drove the wobbly vehicle to the first garage he saw and the mechanic whistled when the muscle car pulled up. But when he saw the flat tires, he couldn’t help but give Dean a disapproving look.

“Man, you shouldn’t drive like that. You’re gonna fuck up the rims,” he groused, petting the car as if to soothe it of its pain.

“Mind your fucking business and gimme new tires,” growled Dean, the urge to kill the guy hot as lava in his bloodstream.

Not that he wouldn’t be able to put on the new tires himself, but he really didn’t wanna have to do it. Plus, he knew there was no point in stirring shit before he was ready to leave. So Dean waited while the guy worked, which thankfully didn’t take too long. When he was finally able to snap the guy’s neck, he did it with a smile and a song in his heart.

And, just because he could, he opened the register’s drawer and grabbed the little cash that was inside.

 

 

_To be continued…_


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Castiel has to come back to Earth, he is glad to find out Dean is alive and that he wants for the angel to come join him and his brother in Tennessee. But when Castiel gets there, the friend he finds is not the same one he left at the bunker.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This delayed posting this is confusing me so this chapter, which should be uploaded tomorrow (for me) might be uploaded once I push that little button thingy… So if that's the case, yay for you, two chapters for the price of one!
> 
> Again, there's nothing super dark in that chapter (but it is ominous, I think)… the next one is where it really starts getting ugly… so… huh… duck and cover?
> 
> Thank you so much for reading and accepting me and my darkness… it means the world to me.

Castiel had stayed in Heaven, trying with Hannah and other angels to find a solution about his depleting grace. But since he refused to absorb another angel’s grace again, he soon had to go back to Earth as his mostly human body could not sustain being in Heaven anymore.

The moment he landed back on Earth, his phone chimed with alerts; text messages, missed calls, voice mails, everything was coming in all at once. Most of them were from Sam but he also saw a couple of texts from Dean. He must have sent them before… before facing Metatron.

_[ **Dean** : where u at angel?]_

_[ **Dean** : u dead?]_

_[ **Dean** : no fun if ur dead]_

Castiel read the messages, perplexed. He found them odd and was to shrug them off when he noticed the dates the messages had been sent. They were from two weeks ago, right around the time Dean was supposed to have been killed. Still, they were dated three days after his alleged passing.

A little spark of hope ignited in Castiel. He never saw Dean’s body after all, nor did he hear of his soul ever reaching Heaven. It wasn’t so much of a stretch to think that Metatron could have lied about killing him. The angel closed his eyes, using a bit of his remaining grace to try and find Dean’s consciousness before remembering that the hunter’s ribs were still etched with the sigils. So even if he was alive…

Opening his eyes again, the angel tapped on the phone to call Dean. It was probably useless but he needed to at least try. And if all he’d get out of it was to hear Dean’s voice on his answering message, it would be well worth it.

The phone rang three times before it was answered.

“Hey, angel! Thought you were dead,” Dean greeted him.

“I thought you were dead too,” Castiel offered back, his heart beating furiously.

“I’m not. You talk to Sam?”

“No, I just got back to Earth. Is he alright?”

“Yeah… just don’t call him, he’s lost his phone and some creep found it. Don’t even answer if he calls, the guy’s just annoying as hell.”

“Alright. I’ll be joining you at the bunker then.”

“Nah, see, that’s no good. We’re on a hunt. How far from Tennessee are you?”

“I’m in Missouri…”

“We’re in Clarksville, come meet us. I’ll text you the address.”

“Alright…”

Dean hung up without so much of a goodbye, but Castiel didn’t mind as he started walking back to where he and Gadreel had left his car. Sadly, it wasn’t there anymore so he’d have to find another one if we was to go meet the brothers. He looked around, trying to find another vehicle to _borrow_.

What he found was called a Taurus and was painted a dark red colour. Again, he used a bit of his grace to get inside the car and start it up, knowing he should flee the scene before the true proprietor came back and caught him. He waited until he was close enough to the highway before stopping into a restaurant’s parking lot to check the address Dean had texted him.

He entered it in his GPS application and started it up. For the next six hours, all Castiel heard were the driving instructions voiced by the phone. He didn’t mind it, not feeling the need to listen to music like his friends apparently always did. Anyway, he could listen to the Host again and it was plenty of entertainment for the falling angel.

The address Dean had given Castiel led him to what looked like an abandoned home, pretty secluded from the neighbours. Most windows were boarded up, there was some fire damage on one side of the house and the grass was long and riddled with weeds. It was not the usual type of accommodations the Winchesters would choose but the Impala at the end of the driveway was enough to convince Castiel that he was at the right place.

He parked his car behind Dean’s and got out, impatient to see his friends and hug them tight. Dean in particular, just because he really needed to. He had spent the last two weeks mourning his death and until he could wrap his arms around him, he wouldn’t be able to believe his being alive to be true. Which, for an Angel of the Lord, was an unsettling sentiment.

Walking towards the backyard, where he imagined there would be a more discreet way to get in and out of the house, he noticed the crack in the Impala’s back windshield. It struck him as peculiar, but he knew those were the kind of things that happened to vehicles. Dean would most certainly repair it as soon as he got back to the bunker. He also noticed how dirty the car was, both outside and inside, which should have been a good indicator of Dean’s unusual state of mind. But again, Castiel didn’t pay it any mind, hurrying to reach the back door and give it three loud knocks.

It took a moment for Castiel to hear any movement coming from inside. If he listened carefully he could hear some faint screaming and clatter, which the angel thought had to be coming from a TV or something. He soon heard walking, the sound of steps coming closer, then someone inside fumbling with the door, unlatching locks before opening it wide. On the other side, a demon with a familiar face was wearing torn jeans and a gray t-shirt spattered with blood.

By sole instinct, Castiel let his blade fall in his hand, prepared to battle the thing that was wearing his friend’s skin.

“Tsk tsk, angel. No need for that…” Dean reprimanded Castiel, grabbing the arm holding the blade and crushing it until the angel had no choice but to let his weapon fall on the ground. “You don’t wanna kill me, Cas. You love me, don’t you?” Dean said again, pulling Castiel inside the house and shutting the door behind them.

“You’re not him, you’re a beast,” growled Castiel when Dean pulled him to crash onto his body, too weak from his grace fading away to fight back efficiently.

“That’s where you’re wrong, angel,” Dean said, grabbing the brown haired man’s jaw with his free hand. “I’m the same guy you met in the pit, remember? Aren’t you glad to see me again?” he said before moving the angel’s face so he could lick a slow stripe along his throat.

“Dean, don’t… it’s not… hunh… you can fight this…” sputtered Castiel, the terror speaking louder than the faint desire the demon’s tongue had sparked.

“You taste so good, angel,” said Dean, not caring about his old friend’s words or for his trembling in fear. “Now stop fidgeting so I can split you open.”

 

 

_To be continued…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still not beta'd… Copyrights owned by whoever owns them… not me…
> 
> The third chapter will truly come "tomorrow"… (or, September 13th for whoever is as confused as I am… I myself, as a North-American, still have my calendar on the 11th. ;-)


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel spends three days in the grasp of the demon he once knew as his friend. This is a brief recounting of the events.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There it is… the first leg of Castiel's nightmare. I kinda feel bad, because I love Castiel… and I love Dean… and I love Sam (he'll be back, no fear)… But then I choose to make them suffer.
> 
> I wish I could say it would be getting better…
> 
> Thanks for reading… I really appreciate it.

Castiel’s nightmare lasted three whole days.

It didn’t take fifteen minutes for Cas to be bent over the dirty kitchen counter with his pants and briefs down on his thighs and Dean forcing his barely spit slicked dick in him without a care for his screams. If anything, it seemed to make the demon even more eager.

“You’re so good, all pretty like that, letting the angel get fucked out of you. You’re my little come whore, aren’t ya?”

Even though Castiel knew the thing violating him wasn’t his friend, he couldn’t help but feel his heart break with every thrust. There was nothing left of the Righteous Man in those bruising hands and still, Castiel was hoping for the fingers to start caressing him instead of breaking his skin. He even started fantasizing that he would wake up and feel the soft brush of Dean’s lips over his instead of feeling the sting of his teeth drawing blood.

“M’gonna eat you up an' drink you down. And I know you’ll let me. You fucking whore…”

Dean pounded in him time and time again, providing hurt not only with his body but mostly with his words, telling him how pathetic he was. He was a wingless angel, an impotent fool, just waiting for Death to come and claim him while harbouring sweet feelings for a demon. He was letting Dean fuck his ass without so much of a fight because he was a dirty little whore in love.

“ _My_ dirty little whore…”

At first Castiel did his best to fight back, but the more he fought, the worse it got. It was made clear soon enough that he could never have the upper hand – Dean was stronger than him – the little grace he had left not making a bit of difference. And the demon certainly didn’t mind that Castiel was trying to keep him out of his body because he always found a way. The trails of sticky blood caking his legs could certainly assess to that.

“Never stop fighting, angel, it makes it so much easier. Fuck! I love the smell of blood and come on you. So fucking delicious…”

Castiel also tried to talk to him in the hopes of touching his heart with his own words, to remind him how he once was a good man, a loving man… a loved man. Screaming to the demon that he loved him more than anything even though he was violently tugging at Castiel’s dick and balls had to be the hardest thing the angel ever had to do. Because, of course, the demon was not Dean and all he did was cackle and maltreat him even more.

“Yeah baby… hun… you better fucking love me… hun… my little fuck toy… hun…”

At some point, all the angel could do was to cry, both in pain and sorrow. And the more he cried, the more Dean laughed. He enjoyed the pain he was inflicting and he couldn’t get enough of the angel’s sufferings. Between each sexual assaults, Dean would beat Castiel up, bite him, and cut him, just so he could hear him cry and howl in pain.

“That’s it. Scream for me, angel. Nobody can hear you. It’s all for me…”

Dean loved the sight of this new body he was creating, battered blue and black, sticky with come and blood, a myriad of angry bite marks sprinkled all over his skin like stars in the night sky. The flesh formerly known as Jimmy Novak was Dean’s canvas and he felt like fucking Michelangelo, making it look so beautiful. Or maybe he was more of a Picasso, seeing how he was working so hard on making the angel unrecognizable.

“Fuck… you’re beautiful… why don’t you piss yourself some more, angel? It makes such pretty patterns on your bloody skin.”

The torture lasted until the angel couldn’t handle it anymore and grew silent, losing all his will to fight. Castiel’s whole body became limp, malleable as a ragdoll, and the demon hated it. He needed him to fight back, craved the violence and the hurt. The taste of blood on his tongue was not enough anymore. Dean tried to shake the angel out of his catalepsy but failed and threw him on the floor.

“You better wake up, angel. Daddy’s not done with you yet… Come on, show me that pretty ass of yours.”

When Castiel didn’t react, Dean wondered what he should be doing. He could kill the angel, but then his sufferings would come to an end. He could let him recuperate a while then use him up all over again, a thought that made Dean snigger. As if he was Florence fucking Nightingale. No, there was only one thing left to do.

After one last hurrah abusing the angel’s mutilated hole, Dean grabbed his coat and left Castiel on the kitchen floor to die.

 

 

_To be continued…_


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Sam gets a worrisome phone call from Castiel, he doesn't hesitate before driving to the address the angel texts him. And even the thought of being right about to walk into one of his brother's trap is not stopping him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In every horror story, there's gotta be a bit of yuck… That's the yucky chapter.
> 
> I am not hoping for you to see or smell all I've written, but I know I kinda did… (to some extent, because there's some stuff I wouldn't even begin to know what they should smell like).
> 
> My heart goes out to Sammy in this part… Cas is in pretty bad shape, but Sam… I think I kinda broke him… which you'll really see in tomorrow's chapter.

Sam was driving when he heard his phone ring. He picked it up from the passenger seat to see who it was, seeing that nobody ever called him anymore. When he saw Castiel’s name on the screen, his heart skipped a beat and the car swerved into the oncoming traffic while he answered the call.

“Cas! Where have you been? I’ve been call– ” he almost yelled, bringing back the car in the proper lane.

The garbled breath he heard over the line made Sam interrupt himself, unsure of what the sound had been.

“Cas?” he repeated and this time he waited for a response.

“Sa’h… he’p…” he heard, barely recognizing the angel’s voice. “Dea—Dean…” Castiel said again before the line went dead.

“Shit,” he spat, pulling over on the side of the road and turning on the emergency lights.

He tried to call Castiel back but the angel wasn’t answering. Instead, Sam received an incomprehensible text message from him, then a second one with an address.

_[ **Castiel** : vlskvilee tn]_

_[ **Castiel** : 104 Whispering Heights Dr., Clarksville, Tn]_

The hunter copied the address in his map application and saw that he was a little over four hours away. Without losing any more time, he made a u-turn and started driving towards the interstate, praying to whoever was up there that he would get to his friend in time.

Sam hoped he wasn’t walking right into a trap his brother would have set. From what he had seen before, Dean probably wouldn't have a problem snatching the angel and try beating him up silly. So he had to wonder how Cas was still alive if, indeed, he had been cornered by Dean. Unless it was, as he suspected, some kind of ruse.

Sam decided he shouldn’t get wherever he was going unprepared. He’d have to stop on the way to go into the trunk and grab his gun and load it with devil’s trap bullets. He didn’t know if they could work on Dean’s type of demon, but it was the only ace he had in his sleeve. Maybe the Colt would have been of great help but he didn’t even know where it was anymore. He imagined it had to be hidden somewhere in the Impala’s trunk.

When he arrived at destination, Sam was surprised to find an abandoned house. In the driveway was an unknown, and severely battered, red Taurus. It looked like it had been totalled and the hunter wondered how Cas could have been driving this around. But the shiny bumper with the CNK 80Q3 license plate that was half twisted around the red car’s form led Sam to believe that it was, after all, no accident.

Instead of going in the back to find a way in, Sam decided to go to the front door, only to find it locked. He tried the doorbell, which didn't work, then he knocked on the door. He also tried to sneak a peek inside the house through a window but there were heavy drapes blocking the view.

“Cas,” he screamed, hoping he wasn’t too late. He kept calling on Castiel, taking his lock picking kit out of his coat pocket, kicking the thick wooden door with his boot. He picked the lock easily but had to take a step back when he opened the door. The stench that came out was bad enough to have him gag but he was able to keep it down, pulling his t-shirt in front on his nose and mouth.

“Cas,” he called again, his voice muffled by the cloth. Even though it was still daytime, the front of the house was cloaked in darkness and there wasn’t power for him to turn the lights on. He grabbed his flashlight and twirled it around to finally discern the details of a decaying space, a living room by the looks of it. There was what looked like a dead bobcat rotting in a corner, half-eaten. Sam wondered for a second what it was that could have tried to eat the feline, but mostly he hoped that whatever it was, it was gone.

Over on the right side of the room were three doors, all closed. After placing the torch under his arm – he certainly didn’t want to let go of the shirt over his face – he opened the first door, pushing it with his foot and aiming his gun forward. An even worse smell came out of there and this time, Sam couldn’t hold it in. He barely had time to run out before blowing chunks all over the porch. He went back to his car to grab a bottle of water and rinsed his mouth, spitting in the overgrown lawn. He drank half the bottle in one gulp and took a deep breath before going back in the house to find Cas.

This time he hid his mouth and nose in the crook of his elbow, blocking the horrid smells more efficiently this way. He went back to take a quick look at the first room, travelling his light inside. He could discern two bodies, two girls in their late teens or early twenties. It was difficult to tell from where he stood but he knew there was nothing he could do for them anymore. They looked, and smelled, like they had been dead for some time already. Sam promised himself to call the cops as soon as he had found his friend.

When he opened the second door, he was relieved to see a regular bathroom, and not an overly disgusting one at that. Of course it was dirty and there were numerous bugs roaming around, but it was nothing compared to what he had seen so far. As he went to grab the doorknob of the third door, Sam heard a noise from ahead. At the end of the hall was a last room bathed in natural sunlight that had to be the kitchen.

“Cas?” he called, hesitating between opening the last door or going to see what the noise was.

He heard the noise again and caught a sight of something tumbling across the tiled floor. Pointing his gun out in front of him, Sam decided the kitchen was the way to go. But what was waiting for him was worse than anything he could ever have imagined. The shock made him forget to hold his folded arm over his face. He fell to his knees and crawled to the angel.

Castiel was shivering on the floor, naked and covered in blood. Sam could see that the genital area seemed to be greatly damaged. It was enough for Sam to understand what had unfolded here. When he tried to put his hand on Castiel, the angel recoiled with a whimper, folding himself in a foetal position.

“Cas, it’s me, Sam,” the hunter hushed, trying not to startle him. “I’ve got you now, we’re going home, alright?” he continued, trying again to bring a comforting hand on the angel’s arm.

“No…” the angel wept when he felt Sam’s touch on him, but he didn’t move away this time.

“It’s okay buddy, we’re getting you out of here, alright? Can you walk?”

Castiel gave a weak nod and started to unfold himself, trying to get up. He only made it as far as getting on his knees, his legs unable to support his weight. He looked at Sam, both relieved and frightened, before letting out in a croak that he couldn’t walk.

“That's fine, Cas. Can I carry you over to the car then?”

“‘m dirty… blood…” the angel mumbled. “Nude…” he added with a sob.

“There’s a blanket in the car, I’ll go get it. Just stay here, okay? I’ll be back…” Sam reassured his friend before opening the back door and jogging to his car. He grabbed the blanket from the trunk – thank you stranger for keeping one in your car – and also picked-up a bottle of water.

Back in the house, he draped Castiel in the blanket and twisted the cap off the bottle before giving it to him. Cas grabbed it and started to down the tepid drink, a bit too fast.

“Cas, slow down, you’re gonna—”

Before Sam could finish warning him, Castiel gave back the bottle and turned away to vomit the water he had just drunk. When the heaves subsided, Sam gave the bottle back to him.

“Slowly now,” he said, even though at this point Cas probably knew that.

Instead of drinking again, he just looked at Sam with bloodshot eyes and said he wanted to leave. Sam nodded in agreement and got to his feet with the angel in his arms, then brought him out to the car. He came back in the house to grab Castiel’s discarded clothes even though they were close to being unsalvageable.

Sitting in the car, he called the police, telling them about two bodies in an abandoned house and gave them the address before hanging up. Then he drove away with the angel curled up in the passenger seat.

“We’ll find a motel so you can clean up and sleep a bit, is that alright?” Sam asked, keeping his eyes on the road before him. Looking at his friend was just too difficult.

“Okay,” Cas responded after clearing his throat.

“If you want your own room, just tell me. Anything you need, Cas.”

“Not alone… please…” Castiel answered after some time.

Sam only nodded, unable to talk around the lump in his throat, thinking how it was getting harder everyday to find reasons to want to keep his brother alive.

 

 

_To be continued…_


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's a broken Castiel and a broken Sam that make it back to the bunker.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just want to take them both in my arms… I might have pictured myself doing just that while I was writing it.
> 
> In tomorrow's edition, they might be feeling better… maybe…
> 
>  
> 
> Thank you for reading!! :-D

The ride back to Kansas took close to fourteen hours, with Sam stopping only for gas and bathroom breaks. Even Castiel, who seemed to now be dangerously leaning towards humanity, had to relieve himself on some occasions and felt the need to drink on a regular basis. But if he was hungry, he never told Sam nor did he accept anything he tried to give him.

The last time Sam had been to the bunker, almost a week after fleeing from his brother, he had made sure to make the building even more demon-proof than it already was. Still, he couldn’t know if it'd be effective at all. So before going to park in the garage, he stopped at the front door and went to check if the strings he had put in the door where still in place.

Satisfied that they were, he took the car around to the garage’s entrance to make sure it hadn’t been used either since he was last there. Again, the pieces of string he had planted were exactly where they once were. Dean might have been good but there was no way he could have placed them back in the exact same place, even with all his demon powers.

As soon as the car was parked inside the bunker, Castiel ran out without waiting for Sam. When the hunter walked down to his room, he heard the angel vomiting in the bathroom.

“Cas? Need some help?” he asked through the closed door.

The only answer that came was more puking noises, accompanied by what Sam could recognize as sobs. He went to his room to throw his duffle on the bed then came back to the bathroom. He knocked but didn’t wait for Castiel’s answer as he opened the door and peaked inside.

The angel was on his knees, his forehead leaning on the arm he had thrown across the toilet bowl, trying to breathe through the snot, tears, and spit adorning his nose and mouth. Hoping his friend wouldn’t freak out, Sam came in and kneeled next to him, bringing a soft hand on his back.

As he had feared, Castiel stiffened at the feeling of Sam’s palm on him. But instead of pulling back, he took a deep breath and stayed where he was, trying to accept his friend’s comforting efforts.

“I’m so sorry, Cas…” Sam murmured, daring to move his hand in slow circles.

It appeared to be too much for the angel as he whimpered and moved away from Sam, giving him an apologetic look.

“I – I can’t – I’m sorry…” he stuttered, grabbing a big wad of toilet paper to wipe his face clean.

“Don’t be, Cas. I’m sorry, I shouldn't have… Would you like me to draw you a bath?” Sam asked after moving away to give his friend some breathing room.

“Maybe… I’m dirty.”

Castiel’s answer made Sam’s heart sink. Of course, they had spent half a day in the car without stopping but Sam knew the angel was not referring to the regular kind of dirty. He had gone through a traumatic experience, having been raped repeatedly. And if that wasn’t enough, he was an angel that had been tainted by a demon. How much more dirty could someone feel?

But Sam didn’t say a thing about it and only nodded. He got up to go to the shower room, where there was also a bath they could use.

“Want something to drink? Tea or something…” Sam asked before leaving.

Castiel only groaned in response, shaking his head and keeping his face towards the toilet bowl. Apparently, he wasn’t done with his throwing up just yet. Sam left him alone and went to start filling up the tub. He took a couple of towels and washcloths in the closet, then went to his usual shower stall to grab his own soap and shampoo for Castiel to use. He certainly wasn’t going to give him anything Dean had left behind.

When the bathtub was full and everything was laid down and easy to get a hold of, Sam left the room, closing the door to keep the warmth inside. He too felt like he could wash the previous day off in a hot shower but he imagined Cas wouldn’t be comfortable to have him in there right now. He walked back to the bathroom to find it empty. Loud banging noises where coming from the bedroom hall. Sam ran towards the sound, worried Dean could have been hiding in the bunker after all.

What he found was Castiel, kneeling on the floor next to Dean’s bedroom door. He was banging his fists on the wall, the skin already starting to break and leaving traces of red on the panelings.

“Cas,” Sam called, not even trying to touch him this time.

“How could you let this happen, Sam?” Castiel screamed, keeping his eyes on the wall before him. “Why didn’t you save him? Dean is gone,” the angel yelled again, punching at the wall with both his fists.

“Damn it, Cas, stop it… you’re hurting yourself…” Sam tried to tell him, getting closer.

“You think that hurts?” Castiel growled, getting up to face the hunter, shoving his bloody fists in the hunter's face. “ _That_ is nothing… _Being sullied by the demon_ was nothing… The real hurt is that Dean Winchester has ceased to exist. And how my heart has died along with him.”

Castiel walked past Sam, making his way to the shower room without a second glance at the hunter. And for the first time since he had found Castiel, Sam let the tears he had been holding flow free. He was strong, but he wasn’t that strong.

He cried over the loss of his brother. He cried about the way they had handled the whole Gadreel situation. He cried for Castiel who had seen the man he gave it all up for try to destroy him, both physically and mentally. Then he cried just because he needed too. It was either that or starting to ram his fists all over the walls like Cas had just done.

When he was able to calm down a bit, Sam went to his room and tried to find something the angel could wear, his own clothes being all torn up and stained with blood. Once again, giving him some of Dean’s stuff would seem like the worst idea ever, even though they were closer in size. He also picked some clothes for himself and walked back to the shower room to sit in the hall.

“Cas, I brought you some clean clothes,” he said, not expecting an answer. “I’m gonna open the door and throw them inside, alright? And later, I can wrap up your hands if you want.”

Again, Sam didn’t think he’d get an answer so he opened the door and flung the t-shirt, sweat pants, boxer shorts, and socks inside the room. He closed the door but stayed where he was, the thought of leaving his friend making him anxious.

If he hadn’t been able to save his brother, he’d at least make sure he wouldn’t fail their angel.

 

 

_To be continued…_


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel stays at the bunker while Sam leaves to try and find his brother. When he comes back, Dean is till in the wind and Castiel has surprising news to share.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so delighted, even if a bit surprised, about the positive response this piece is having. I thought it would be too much, but maybe that was misunderstanding our dear fandom. 
> 
> I just appreciate you guys so much… Thank you for reading, and kudoing, and commenting… it makes my heart sing sappy love songs.
> 
> See you tomorrow! xx
> 
> .

For someone who was about to die not so long ago, Castiel seemed to be recuperating quickly. But if the body had been healing nicely, his mind was still pretty damaged. The angel, once so powerful – he _became_ God after all – was now fidgety and nervous. Every little noise would startle him and, even though he knew Sam would never hurt him, he couldn’t seem to ever be far enough from him.

To be fair, Cas had never thought Dean would hurt him either. Not like this anyway. And yet, he had done unmentionable things to him. It didn’t matter that Dean wasn’t himself anymore, the outrage had been done and there was no coming back from it.

Sam had chosen to stay with him at the bunker, but after a week and a call from a fellow hunter, Castiel insisted that his friend followed the demon’s trail. And as much as he didn’t like the thought of leaving the angel alone, Sam knew he still had to find his brother. Not that he knew exactly what he’d be able to do when he found him, but he still had to try.

Of course, when Sam reached Valdosta, GA, Dean had already left. But he did find where the demon had been when he saw in the local news a story about two young women found dead in an old abandoned house. It was enough to know what Dean had been up to, seeing as he had also found dead girls in the house where Castiel had been.

The hunter felt like there was a bowling ball jammed in his stomach. He couldn’t believe Dean had become a serial killer, because there were no other words for what he was now. He might have been a demon but Sam always had a faint hope that there would still be a hint of his brother deep down somewhere. And that’s when it hit him.

Dean said once how he enjoyed torturing souls when he was back in Hell. He said he _liked_ it.

Sam didn’t cry at the realisation. He had cried enough and he had to find a way to stop the demon before he could do anymore damage. He wanted to try and cure him – if that was ever a possibility – but first he needed to catch him. Which was proving to be extremely difficult.

He still tried to find him, driving from town to town according to the different rumours and news feeds. Once in a while, he’d call Castiel to make sure he was doing alright, not sharing anything about his quest unless the angel asked. But he never did.

After three weeks on the road, Sam came back to the bunker. He wanted to see how Castiel was doing but, mostly, he had lost all traces of his brother again. He was surprised to see that the angel waiting for him was a healthy one, considering the abuse he had gone through. Even his moral seemed to have picked-up a bit, in a sort of resigned way. It did make Sam worried.

“How are you doing, Cas?” he asked, coming to sit with the angel in the war room.

“I’m alright, I guess,” Castiel answered with a faint smile. “I know the end is near, so I have this to look forward to.”

“Don’t say that, We’ll find a solution. I was just—”

“There’s no solution, Sam. Not anymore anyway.”

Sam looked at his friend, trying to evaluate his state of mind, without much success. All he saw was peace and resolution in the angel’s features. Which, in itself, was everything but reassuring.

“You don’t know that. It looks like the grace has stabilised…”

“That’s not it. And the grace is gone.”

“So what now? You’re human?”

“Of course not. Well, maybe… but only for another eight months. More or less.”

“What are you talking about, Cas? You’re not making any sense.”

“Your bro—the demon… he impregnated me.”

The angel’s announcement should have been a shock but Sam found it to be so unbelievable that he couldn’t react to it. Instead, he felt sorry for Castiel, now convinced he had been right to be worried about his friend’s psyche.

“Cas… I know you haven’t been human for very long, but… you have to know that you are missing some very important parts to be with child, right?” Sam said, as carefully as possible.

“Of course, Sam. I do know how reproduction works,” Castiel huffed. “And I also know Jimmy lacked the proper equipment. Well, to be _with child_ anyway.”

“Then how—”

“I do believe it has to do with the grace I was harbouring. I fear it has melded with… the demon’s seed. Maybe it tried to eradicate it but clearly, it didn’t work.”

This time the news hit Sam so hard he was glad to be sitting down because he was sure his legs would have given out. Cas could be all logical and shit about his explanation, it still didn’t make a lick of sense. Off all the questions he felt the need to ask, only one passed his lips.

“What are you gonna do?”

“There isn’t much I can do, I’m afraid,” Castiel started with a shrug. “You need to understand that this… abomination… it cannot be born. If a child born from a demon and a human would be the Antichrist, I can only imagine what a demon and angel hybrid could become.”

“We don’t know this… It would still be half angel.”

“And half demon. Nothing good can come out of this.”

“So what do you want then? An abortion? How in hell would we even manage that?”

“No need for an abortion, Sam. All you need to do is kill me.”

Castiel still had that peaceful look about him. Sam had found it odd earlier but now he knew why. The angel had made peace with the idea of dying. But Sam certainly hadn’t.

“It’s out of the question, Cas. We can take the child out of you, we’ll find a way.”

“You don’t understand, Sam. This thing inside me, it’s the only reason I’m still alive. Once it’s gone, I’m dead. Same thing if I was to let it come to term. I would die the second it is born. There is no escaping it. Killing me is the most efficient way to get rid of it.”

“I can’t do that,” Sam argued in a trembling voice.

“You have to. Believe me, if I could have avoided asking you, I would have. But it won’t let me kill myself. I tried…”

For the first time since Sam has come back, he saw a shadow of sadness fall upon the angel’s face. Of course he understood the child couldn’t be born, but he also knew he still had a brother to find and cure. And at that moment, he believed the pregnant angel could be the best way to have him come to them.

“Cas… if I promise you I won’t let the child be born, would you agree to serve as bait for Dean to come to us?”

“Sam—”

“No, I know. Just… listen, alright? All I need is for him to come back. We just need to trap him so I can cure him.”

“You don’t even know if traps can work on him.”

“We at least have to try. Please, Cas.”

“You are asking me, but I don’t think you really care for my approval, do you? Were I to say no, you would do it anyway, am I right?”

Sam tried to keep his eyes on Castiel’s but he soon had to forfeit, bowing his head in shame. Of course he didn’t want to kill the angel, not now anyway. And if Cas couldn’t kill himself because the kid had enough influence, that meant he could pretty much do whatever he wanted.

“Sam, I understand what you want to do, believe me. But you have to think about the consequences. If right now the child is preventing me to harm myself, I am pretty certain that when it is strong enough, I will feel the urge to protect it. At all cost… Do you understand what I’m saying? At some point, I will do _all I can_ to survive and carry the child to term.”

“You don’t know that… but I get it. It’s only until Dean comes. Then, I promise to ki—liberate you,” Sam vowed, his voice thick with sadness.

 

 

_To be continued…_


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean gets an interesting phone call from his brother.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah… sometimes the summaries can’t be too wordy, sorry. But, that's pretty much it anyways.
> 
> Again, just a big thank you for reading and liking this little thing of mine. I appreciate your support so much, you wouldn't believe.
> 
> Thanks again, and I will see you all tomorrow! :D
> 
> .

When his phone rang, Dean preferred not to pay any attention to it. After all, his hands were coated with the blood of that blonde waitress he had seduced two evenings before. Plus, he couldn’t very well answer while she was screaming her head off, could he?

At some point, she did stop screaming. She wasn’t dead – not yet anyway – but she had passed out from the pain and blood loss. That was the reason he always snatched two girls, only to have someone to play with while the other was being an unresponsive bitch.

Except this time, he hadn’t. Apparently, the news of a serial killer on the loose was making the girls stay home and avoid strange men. Maybe eventually he’d grab a couple of guys instead. Or a couple… the idea of the extra pain it would inflict on each party when they’d see their lover being tortured gave the demon funny feelings in the pants.

Dean used an old rag to wipe the coagulating blood off his hands and knife. Then he took his phone from his pocket to see who had called. Surprisingly enough, it was a masked number. He shrugged and was about to put the phone back in his pocket when it rang again, the call once more coming from a private number.

“Yeah,” he answered.

“Dean,” Sam said, his tone clipped.

“Little brother, what a nice surprise,” the demon purred. “And here I thought you were avoiding me.”

“I found Cas…”

“You did? Did you give the little slut a proper hunter’s funeral? Did you cry, Sammy?”

“He’s not dead, Dean. Far from it. He’s pregnant.”

Sam felt his heart clench at the sound of his brother erupting in laughter.

“Wow! That’s fucking rich! So what now? Want me to come home and make an honest man out of the angel? We’ll be a happy little family, is that it?”

“I just thought you’d like to know. You’re still my brother.”

“I couldn’t give a rat’s ass about the bastard… or his _mom_.”

The girl bleeding on the kitchen table woke up and started screaming again. “Would you shut the fuck up already?” Dean growled while shoving the bloody rag in her mouth and holding it in place with a hand over her face.

“Dean…” Sam breathed, knowing very well what he had just heard.

“Are you ready, Sam?”

“For what?”

“For me coming to kill you, of course. I’m not letting you run around trying to find ways to get rid of me. Or worse, cure me!”

“You know I’ll never give up, right?”

“You will when I gut you like a fish. Then I’ll slice up Cas and his bastard kid. Might try to have a bit of fun at first though. He’s such a compliant hole that one. I wonder if you’d be as easy, Sammy.”

“I’m done playing games with you. I told you what I needed to say… your move!”

Before Dean could respond, the line went dead, Sam had hung up. With a shrug, the demon put his phone back in his pocket and turned his attention back to the girl he had been keeping silent. He was realising now that she had stopped struggling while he was talking to Sam.

If the revulsed eyes and lack of breathing were anything to go by, Dean had to come to the conclusion that his little toy had gone and died on him. And unfortunately, it wasn’t by his hands. Well, it was, but he hadn’t had time to enjoy it all because of his stupid brother.

He looked around at the decaying house and shrugged, grabbing his bag to put back inside the knives and tools he’d been using on his victim. He grinned at the thought of how he’d be leaving Lexington, KY without a second body for the police to find. _“Talk about breaking a pattern,”_ he chuckled, seeing how the girl had expired from a rag in her throat instead of being mauled to death with a knife.

Dean left the house to get to the Impala sitting outside. It was in the worst shape it had ever been, safe from the times it had been in accidents. The crack in the back windshield was now much bigger, with smaller cracks running along the main one. It was covered in dirt and mud, the bumper on the back was still in the driveway of that house in Clarksville, and the inside was as nice and cozy as a dumpster. Even the stolen Florida license plates were all torn-up and merely holding on with duct tape and sheer luck.

Not even bothering to put his bag in the trunk, Dean opened the car’s door and flung it on the passenger seat, making the empty Jack bottles rattle, one tumbling down on the floorboard. He rolled down the windows to lessen the stink of the dirty food wrappers. Maybe he could at least get rid of those, only so there wouldn’t be as many flies flying around his face all the time.

Opening the door, the demon dumped everything he could reach on the asphalt and, satisfied, started the car. The news of the angel being pregnant with his child had stirred something up in him, but it wasn’t what his brother had hoped. He knew the kid would have to be something very powerful. Just the fact that he was even conceived was nothing short of a miracle. And he knew that the angel wouldn’t want it to be born.

It wasn’t that he felt anything remotely paternal towards the thing. But he knew it would certainly be an asset. He could go and take over Hell with his own little army, like Cain had done with his Knights. Except this time they would be his hybrid kids. Castiel wasn’t the only angel in creation, so all Dean needed to do was to find other angels to impregnate.

Happy with his new plan, the demon left Lexington to drive West towards Lebanon, KS, confident he’d be at the bunker before sunrise the next day. He knew they would probably be waiting for him, over-proofing the place with traps and sigils. Little did they know that as long as he had the anti-possession tattoo on his chest, the wards wouldn’t work on him. And he certainly wasn’t about to tell them about it.

 

 

_To be continued…_


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's Sam's turn to get a phone call. He should have known better than to leave the bunker for stupid groceries.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter marks the half of the story. I think of the 15 already written, I only need to add another two to conclude. But knowing how I am when I write, maybe it'll be 3 more…
> 
> Whatever it gets to be, it'll be finished before S10 starts again… so yay!
> 
> Again, thank you friends for reading, and liking, and commenting. You make my day, each and every day.
> 
> .

It had been six days since Sam had called Dean and the demon hadn’t shown up yet. Maybe Castiel was right, maybe he really didn’t care about anything anymore. That was enough for Sam to know that his brother was really gone. He already knew it, but this was just an extra nail in the coffin.

When he came back to the bunker after an obligatory trip to the supermarket, Sam didn’t notice anything out of the ordinary. Not at first anyway. The bunker was pretty quiet, as it always was. Castiel wasn’t in the library or in the kitchen, which meant he had to be in his room sleeping again. Becoming human, and pregnant, seemed to have been taking a toll on him. His energy levels were at their lowest and his appetite was monstrous, probably because he was vomiting half of what he’d eat.

Sam had tried to explain to Castiel that he couldn’t just eat and sleep, that he needed to stay a minimum in shape and healthy. Of course, he didn’t really understand, arguing that his body needed food and sleep, which he was obligated to content. So the angel was doing just that, eating and sleeping and apparently putting on some weight.

Not that Sam really looked at the angel, but it was difficult not to see what was happening to Castiel's body when he’d be walking shirtless around the bunker. At some point, Sam was worried his friend would start to walk around stark naked so he asked him to keep his shirt on.

“But my nipples are sensitive. And I’m hot,” he argued, pointing at the offending fleshy nubs.

That’s when Sam had been obligated to notice the changes in the angel’s form. His chest seemed softer than his otherwise muscular frame suggested and he could swear his nipples looked larger, and darker, than the first time he had been exposed to them. So Sam hadn’t insisted and tried to avoid the sight of the developing breasts his friend didn’t seem incline to hide.

After putting away the groceries, Sam decided to go check on Cas. There always was the slim chance that the angel could be trying to kill himself. Especially since he’d been asking the hunter to do it now that the news of his _situation_ hadn’t made Dean come around.

Still, for some reason, the closer Sam got to Castiel’s room, the more anxious he grew. It was as if he could feel something was wrong. Even though he thought he might just be paranoid, he still started to run, not taking the time to knock before opening Castiel’s door. His stomach dropped in his heels when he saw the wrecked state of the room.

The bed was a mess and Sam could see a bit of blood on the pale sheets. The little books and artefacts Castiel had been accumulating in his room were all over the floor, some of them having clearly been thrown to the wall. Even the chair had been manhandled, half lying on the bed with a broken leg.

“Shit, Cas… what did you do?” the hunter breathed, convinced the angel really might have tried again to hurt himself.

Sam turned back to go take a look in the shower room. When the phone in his pocket started to ring, he answered it without checking the I.D.

“Hello?”

“Heya Sammy! Gotta say, I’m sorry I missed you there.”

“Dean?” Sam replied, stopping in his stride.

“The one and only. Thought I’d let you know the angel’s with me. Yup, that’s right, I stole your boyfriend,” Dean cackled.

“Thought you wanted to kill me?” Sam spat.

“I wanted to wait for you but Cas was very… convincing. Told you he was an agreeable hole.”

Sam remembered the blood traces on the bed and winced, only imagining what sort of deal Castiel could have made with the demon. Closing his eyes, he inhaled sharply before responding to the thing that was his brother.

“I’ll find you, you know.”

“Come on, Sammy! You know I’m too smart for you. Anyway, you should be happy little brother… seems like I’m getting my apple pie life after all. Me, the angel and the kid, we’ll make one hell of a family.”

“Enjoy it while it lasts,” the hunter menaced, going into his room to prepare his duffle.

“Oh I will, no worries. I’m looking forward for you to find me, can’t wait to slice you up. Let’s do that, shall we? You find me and then I kill you. It’s gonna be our little game.”

While Dean was laughing, amused by his own words, Sam went to the infirmary to grab the leather pouch with the needles he had used on Crowley. Then he ran to the dungeon to grab every enchanted contraption device he could find. Another stop was the storeroom where he picked every weapon and salt he could. He put everything in a second duffle.

“You still there, Sammy?” the demon asked, less laughing, more taunting. “You getting ready? Just a head’s up, I’m dumping the phone as soon as we’re done. I’ll fall off the grid so, you know… good luck!”

“You keep telling yourself that, Dean. You not expecting me might just make things easier,” Sam snarled back, making one last stop in the kitchen to grab anything not too perishable; crackers, pudding cups, granola mix, beer, bread and a half-empty peanut butter jar. It wasn’t the best food in the world but it would be enough for a while.

“We’ll be waitin’ for ya, Sammy,” Dean announced before hanging up.

As soon as the line went dead, Sam dumped his overflowing bags on the kitchen table and took a moment to compose himself, breathing deeply. He might have been pretty confident while talking to the demon, but Sam was anything but. There was no way for him to know where Castiel was being taken

He reorganized the duffles, putting the food in the one with the clothes. Then he went back to the war room to grab his laptop, dumping everything again on the table to look through the contacts in his phone. There weren’t many people left he could call for help, they were pretty much all dead. But he knew one person who might be able to find people to lend him a hand.

All Sam could do now was pray that Garth could still provide contacts despite his lycanthropic status. And that he hadn’t gone feral…

 

 

_To be continued…_


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel wakes up to find himself trapped in a nightmare again. And this time, there is no escaping it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is another bad chapter for Castiel… I'm really sorry… But my Demon!Dean is a dangerous MoFo… And yeah, it may be a bit more graphic this time…
> 
> Thank you for reading and keeping up with me…

Before he even opened his eyes, Castiel knew he wasn’t home. The mattress under his body was softer than usual – too soft for his own taste – and he could hear birds chirping. He never could hear the birds from inside the bunker. There was also a soft draft of air running all over his naked body. Again, a breeze and nudity… those weren’t usual occurrences.

He tried to open his eyes but had a hard time, the left one being the only responsive one. Still, the brightness of the natural light made him flinch and shut the little he had opened. A feeling of panic settled in when he tried to move and found himself incapacitated. Something was restricting his arms and legs in their movements, forcing him to lie in a spread eagle fashion. But it was enough to make him remember what had happened, he just didn’t know how long ago it had.

It was the first time Sam had left him alone since talking to the demon but they needed food and the second the hunter was out the door, Dean came in as if he owned the place. Which, in retrospective, was kind of the case. But apparently, all the traps they had set up had little to no effect on the demon. The angel, resting in his room, never saw or heard him coming.

Castiel’s first thought was that Dean would kill him, he even prayed that he would, effectively annihilating the life growing inside of him. But of course he didn’t. Instead, he taunted him, saying they had time to have some fun before Sam would come back. The angel begged his tormentor to leave the younger Winchester alone. He negotiated, offering himself whole instead.

It was difficult to know what the demon was thinking. They both knew he could just take Castiel and still kill Sam anyway. And as if to prove just that, he played a bit on his skin with his knife before violating him like he had done before.

“You. Can’t. Even. Be filled. Without. Getting. Knocked-up. Stupid. Little. Bitch,” the demon mocked him, each word punctuated by a violent thrust of his hips.

And Castiel didn’t fight back, determined to prove to Dean that he could be as compliant as he wanted him to be. It didn’t take long for the demon to be satisfied and let go of his grasp on the angel’s neck. He took a minute to observe the angel, his dick deflating in his ass.

“Alright…” he finally said before sliding out and knocking him unconscious.

Castiel could somewhat remember waking up a couple of times, sitting in a moving car, only to be knocked out again. He couldn’t say how many times it happened, but it was enough to make him groan in pain when he tried to move his jaw, scrunch up his nose or open his eyes. The pain was horrendous. Still, he bit through it and, slowly, was able to take a look at his surroundings, even though he had only been able to open a single eye, and not much more than a sliver.

He was in a bedroom, and a nice one at that. It certainly wasn’t anything like the motels he’d seen the brothers stay at over the years. Plus, there was a window, with thin curtains floating in the soft breeze. All he could see outside were shades of green, as if they were in the middle of the woods. Which meant that they probably were pretty far removed from civilization. But it didn’t make Castiel not try and scream for help as loud as he could.

It didn’t take long for his keeper to waltz inside the room, a pleased grin on his face.

“Finally… I wondered how long you’d stay asleep there, angel,” Dean groused, walking to the bed.

“Why…” Castiel croaked, surprised he was able to talk at all.

“We’ll be a pretty little family, Cas. You, the baby, and me. Well, of course once the baby’s born I’ll have no use for you. Unless I knock you up again…” he mused with a crooked smile.

“No… birth canal… dead…” the angel tried to explain.

“We’ll see about that. For now, you relax and make that baby big and strong, you hear?”

“I’d ra– rather die.”

“I don’t care. Now be a nice cattle and breed for Daddy.”

Dean opened his pants and started to stroke himself, sending hungry glares to his prisoner. Clearly, he had an idea on how to pass the time and Castiel closed his eyes again, turning his head away.

“Look at me,” the demon ordered.

Castiel shook his head, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing fear in his eyes. Almost immediately, he felt the sting of a hand slapping his already bruised face.

“I said open your fucking eyes, slut! If you do, I promise to use lube,” Dean tried to negotiate. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you? My wet cock sliding into you,” he cooed, slapping the angel’s face once more. “Alright, have it your way. Don’t come cryin’ when your butt’s clogged with blood.”

Defeated, Castiel opened his eyes, sending a hateful glare at the demon instead of the fearful one he might have been expecting. Of course, the only effect it had on Dean was to make him double over in laughter.

“Oh, angel. You always were the rebel, weren’t you? That’s what’s making all of this so much fun. I can’t wait to break you,” he declared, positioning himself on the bed and lifting the angel’s hips to angle the tip of his lubed cock at his hole. “Now say ah! for me,” he growled before pushing his way in, not caring about the angel’s defensive clench, forcing his way through it. “Stop resisting… it’ll be much better for you if you let it happen. Plus, think about the baby. You don’t want to stress it out, do you?”

Instead of answering, Castiel found the energy to spit in the demon’s face. The last thing Castiel saw before falling unconscious again was Dean’s fist once more coming at his face.

 

 

_To be continued…_


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Even if he is one of the best hunters out there, Sam can’t find his brother and his prisoner. He needs help and he’s ready to scrape the bottom of the barrel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had written this before the S10 sneak peek that came out this week… So someone might not appear to be quite in character. Still, it was only a sneak peek and we don’t REALLY know what will come out of it… 
> 
> But, so far, nobody has been exactly canon-compliant, for what we know anyway. (which is why I wanted to make sure it’d be published before the S10 premiere.
> 
> So I hope it won’t bug you too much. My only wish is that you keep on reading but mostly, that you appreciate it. It’s the only important thing for me. You guys are my energy, my fuel!! xx
> 
> .

For almost three months, Sam looked for Dean and Castiel. Garth had given him all the numbers he could think of and had promised he’d be on the look-out for underground _monster_ information. But nobody ever heard or saw anything remotely helpful.

That’s why Sam called upon the last ones he ever thought he’d be calling. Well, second to last maybe. He wasn’t ready to summon the King of Hell just yet, thinking he probably was on his brother’s team anyway. So he asked for the angels’ help, praying to Hannah to come to him. Before the angels would abandon Castiel, she pretty much seemed to be the president of his fan club.

“Sam Winchester,” the angel said when she appeared in the bunker.

“Hannah,” he answered, glad to see that she had come alone.

“I have to admit, I am surprised that you would have called upon me. What is it you said about Castiel?”

When Sam had prayed, he made sure to emphasize on the fact that he needed help for Castiel. That the angel had disappeared and was in deep trouble.

“He’s been kidnapped… by my brother,” Sam explained, not sure how much they already knew.

“Yes, we know… we also know about his… situation.”

“And what? You’re not doing anything about it? Who knows what—”

“Sam, there isn’t much we can do. And even if there was, our instructions are not to intervene.”

“Instructions? From whom? God’s gone, there’s no archangels left—”

“Fine… we don’t want to intervene. Better?”

“No, not really. You can’t want this thing to be born. Castiel would have killed himself already if he could.”

“Then why didn’t you kill him?” Hannah asked, looking genuinely curious.

“Dean… I needed Cas to find my brother…” Sam explained in a low voice.

“I see your plan worked wonders. Now you want us to clean up your mess?”

“I don’t want you to do anything,” Sam spat, ticked by the angel’s annoyed tone. “All I need is some help to find where they are. I’ll deal with everything else myself.”

“That would be us intervening, and like I said—”

“I don’t care, Hannah. It’s not like you’ll be doing anything. I just need to find them.”

“We don’t know where they are, alright? Both your brother and Castiel are hidden from us, but you should know that already,” the angel argued.

“Shit… yeah, I know,” he agreed, thinking about the sigils etched on his brother's ribs and Castiel's warding tattoo.

“Then you must know there’s nothing we can do. I actually did like Castiel, but you knew that. This is why you prayed to me, isn’t it?

Sam nodded without looking at her, racking his brain to try and find a solution.

“Do you think you could summon him then?” Sam tried.

“I am sorry, but I will not summon a demon. At least not one as powerful as your brother.”

“What about the kid, Hannah? You really want it to be born? That thing might just end up being more powerful than both demons and angels.”

“Just like God was…”

The angel’s words sent shivers down Sam’s spine. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing and he certainly didn’t want to believe what he was understanding.

“You can’t be saying that Cas is going to give birth to God, are you? Please tell me that’s not what you’re thinking.”

“We don’t know Sam… Nobody knows because such a thing has never happened before. But wouldn’t that explain why the both of them would have been repeatedly resuscitated? What if that was their purpose all along?”

“You’re insane,” Sam breathed, letting his tall body fall down on the closest chair.

“This is not something your human mind could ever comprehend, Sam. That child is a miracle in every way. His creation has to mean something,” Hannah explained, a beatific expression adorning her features.

“Yeah, but what if it means the end? The end of the angels, of humanity… what then?”

“Then we’ll do what needs to be done. In the meantime, we believe this child is to be born. And if you try to prevent His birth, we will impeach you.”

The angel disappeared before Sam could respond, her threats thick like fog in the air. He couldn’t believe the angels thought that Dean and Castiel’s child could be anything but a curse. And with Hannah menacing him, he now needed to make sure the bunker was warded against angels as well. Castiel would probably never come back anyway and if he did, he wouldn’t be an angel, Sam was certain of that.

While he worked on making the bunker angel-proof, he tried to think of other ideas, doing his very best to ignore the only real card he had left. If Crowley didn’t know about the child yet, he would probably be just as adamant as the angels to keep it alive. Still, there was a slight chance that he wouldn’t. Such a powerful and dangerous creature, as Sam could only imagine it would be, would have to be a threat to the King’s throne. And he knew Crowley wasn’t one to give up on his crown.

This time, the demon appeared the second he was summoned. Sam was tempted to kill him only because he had ignored him when he wanted to save his brother. But since he believed he needed him so much, he pushed the urge down.

“Hello Moose… what gives me the pleasure?” Crowley asked before taking a sip of the drink he had appeared with.

“Where’s my brother?” the hunter growled, not wanting to waste any time entertaining the demon with inane conversation.

“Why are you asking me? I’m not your brother’s keeper, you know.”

“Isn’t he one of your soldiers?”

“Ha! As if he'd be working for anyone. Do you even know your brother?”

Sam eyed the King of Hell, trying to figure out how truthful he was. Because, indeed, his brother wasn’t the guy to take orders from anyone, not since their father anyway. But with the rapes and killing spree, he clearly wasn’t himself anymore. There wasn’t an ounce of his brother left in the demon so his behaviour was anything but predictable.

“He’s not Dean anymore,” Sam felt the need to explain. “Do you know where he is or not?”

“No, I don’t… he tried to kill me when he woke up and that blade of his would certainly have done the trick. So I’m kind of staying out of his way… for now.”

“Huh… afraid of my brother, are you?”

“Not afraid. Cautious. He’ll come around eventually, I’m just giving him some space to enjoy his new… life.”

“Yeah well, he’s been enjoying himself alright. And I need to find him soon, time is running out.”

“And why should I care?”

“You would if you knew he impregnated Castiel.”

The amber liquid Crowley had just sipped made its way into the wrong hole at the news, making him cough. Eyes wide, he looked at Sam in utter disbelief.

“That’s impossible,” was the only thing he could answer.

“Exactly… that’s why it’s pretty much a miracle. The angels seem to think that it’s God that’ll be born again. What do _you_ think could result in the mating of an angel and a demon?”

Sam is glad to see Crowley’s face fall. Not only did he not know, but he was seeing the arrival of such a creature as a menace.

“Cas is about five months along, so we don’t have much time left. This kid can’t be born Crowley.”

“No, I agree with you there. But I don’t know where they are.”

“Can you try to find them?”

“How in hell do you want me to do this? It’s not like demons have a GPS up their asses,” the demon groaned.

“I’m sure you have ways… I’ve exhausted all my resources, you’re my last hope in finding them.”

“And why do you think I’ll help you?”

“Because you know that if this child lives, your days are numbered,” Sam replied with a knowing smirk. “It might just end up being too powerful for you to handle.”

“You think Dean would let me get a hand on Castiel? He can still kill me, you know.”

“I just need you to find them. Leave the rest up to me.”

Crowley looked about to answer but he didn’t. Instead, he nodded and disappeared, leaving the hunter to hope he hadn’t made a mistake. The King of Hell certainly wouldn’t have a problem stabbing him in the back if it served his own interests.

 

 

_To be continued…_


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Today is the last day of Dean and Castiel playing house…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really didn’t know how to summarize this chapter… so, yeah… there you go! lol
> 
> My writing of this story has come to an end (somewhat)… I now know for sure there are 18 chapters. 
> 
> So I think I need to go to church now… That is if I don't catch on fire when I try to go through the doors. Still… I would hate to have to cancel that Bus To Hell… I bet it'd be a fun ride!
> 
> (sorry, it's early, my doggy's sick and I'm tired! lol)
> 
> Thank you for reading and liking and commenting and whatever you crazy kids do! xx
> 
> .

Sitting on his bed, Castiel was trying to meditate, both hands resting on his swollen abdomen. Since Dean’s last sexual antics, the angel could feel the child moving around as if it was trying to find a way out. Rubbing slow circles on his belly, he tried to soothe both his kid and himself by humming soft melodies.

“I’m so sorry, baby. Soon you’ll be born and nobody will be able to hurt you anymore,” Castiel promised, his whole being filled with love for the life growing inside of him.

“Ain’t that a pretty picture,” Dean said, startling the angel.

He was standing in the doorway, leaning on the door frame, his eyes black as night.

“But see, you’re wrong,” he continued. “It’s you who won’t hurt anymore when I snatch the thing from your entrails. Which sucks, really… I would have loved to keep you around after all.”

Dean came into the room while unbuttoning his pants, as he always did. Sometimes, Castiel wondered why the demon even bothered wearing any pants, seeing as he spent most of his time sliding out of them. Castiel certainly wasn’t wearing anything.

“Turn over, angel. I’m up for a little doggy-style action,” Dean ordered, expecting the angel to obey without hesitation.

Which he did, getting on his knees and crawling back towards the edge of the bed. As usual, Dean didn’t prepare him but he was being used so often that it wasn’t as necessary anymore. All the demon would do to help things along was to lube up his dick. So, frankly, it wasn’t all that bad, Cas sometimes even felt pleasure. Especially when his prostate was stimulated, even if it was more by accident than design.

“Don’t you fucking touch yourself,” the demon growled when he saw Castiel try to take his dick in his own hand. “You’re such a good hole,” he praised when the angel obeyed, before adding “I wanna fuck your face.”

That was something new. Dean had never expressed the desire to see Castiel give him head, even though he himself had suggested it to try and make the beatings lessen. It never worked because the demon claimed the angel would try to bite his cock off. So he’d beat him up some more as retribution for the things he hadn’t done.

Castiel gasped when Dean exited him. Submissively, he got off the bed and kneeled in front of the demon, hesitating only for a second before grabbing the shaft and wrapping his lips around the head. On his tongue he tasted lube, precome, and what was probably a hint of his own ass. Closing his eyes, he relaxed his jaw and let Dean push forward until he hit the back of his throat. Well, he tried, but this was new for him and he certainly didn’t expect his throat closing up and the gag reflex.

But Dean didn’t care, keeping on thrusting in the angel’s mouth. Castiel worked hard not to cough or gag, an insane amount of saliva trickling from the corners of his mouth and tears streaming down his face. Eyes closed, he tried to clear his mind, concentrating on the only parts of his body he needed to control; his mouth and his throat. Soon he was able to relax enough so the demon would be able to go as far as he wanted.

He was so focused on the current task that he was surprised when demon suddenly slipped out of his mouth. When he opened his eyes, he thought he was hallucinating when he saw Sam march in the bedroom, a gun in his hand. He hadn’t heard shots being fired but he saw the bloody hole in Dean’s shoulder blade when he turned to face his brother.

“You can’t kill me with a gun, little brother,” he snarled.

Sam aimed and shot again, but this time right in the demon’s tattoo, effectively breaking the protection it granted him.

“No, but I can immobilize you it seems. Wasn’t sure the devil's trap bullets would work,” he explained, stopping far enough so Dean wouldn’t be able to touch him.

Behind Sam, Castiel could see about half a dozen strangers standing, all with guns aimed at the demon.

“So what? I’ll take them out, just like Abaddon did. Then, I’ll fucking kill you.”

“Yeah, you said that before. And it won’t matter if you take the bullets out.”

“What? You’re gonna chop me up in little pieces? I’d like to see you try.”

A tall and skinny guy came into the room, carrying shackles and chains in his arms.

“Well, well, well… if it isn’t the little doggy himself,” Dean laughed when he saw him. “Come on Garth, we’re supposed to be on the same team here, aren’t we?”

“Told you I wasn’t a beast, Dean. I’m here to help you,” Garth replied.

“You get near me with those things, I’ll be the one eating your heart,” he warned the werewolf, making sure to growl like a dog in doing so.

“Guys, cover us,” Sam ordered the people in the main room. He walked closer to Dean and picked a first set of shackles from Garth’s arms, crouching to the floor to secure the feet, averting the sight of his brother’s dick still glistening with the angel’s spit.

As for Garth, he was able to close a manacle around only one of Dean’s wrists before being thrown to the wall.

“Stop, you’re hurting him,” Castiel screamed, still kneeling on the floor behind the demon.

“I’m alright…” spluttered Garth from the spot where he had landed, trying to sit up right. It granted him with a surprising scowl from the angel.

“Don’t hurt Dean,” Castiel said again, crawling on the floor to look at Sam in the eye.

“Cas…” Sam breathed, confused by the angel’s plea. “We’re only here to help him, alright? We won’t hurt him.”

“You think curing me is helping, Sam? How about when I’m human again and remember the wonderful things I’ve done. You think I’ll be happy then?” Dean taunted him.

“At least you’ll be human,” was all Sam answered, eyeing the still unsecured manacle.

The demon was ready, prepared to snap the neck of anyone who would try to come at him. But before any of the hunters could make a move, Crowley appeared next to Dean. He put a hand on the demon’s shoulder and smirked, cocking an eyebrow towards Sam. Relieved, Dean smiled and looked down at the angel at his feet.

“I’ll be back for you, sweetheart,” he promised, licking his lips.

Of course, he couldn’t have known that the King of Hell would only make him reappear in the other bedroom, sitting on a chair in the middle of a devil’s trap and all properly shackled up.

“Crowley, you son of a bitch, I’ll end you,” he yelled when he realised what the demon had done.

Nobody paid any attention to him. Not when they heard Sharon, one of the hunters, scream in pain and fall face first on the floor. Behind her was standing Castiel with a bloody knife, ready to attack anyone else who would be coming at him.

“Let. Him. Go,” he growled before being grabbed by Garth who had sneaked up behind him. It didn’t take much for the lycanthrope to get the upper hand and secure the graceless angel back on the bed, using the restraints that were still attached to each post.

“Sorry Castiel,” Garth muttered while tying him up. “It’ll all be over soon, alright?”

Castiel didn’t respond, instead yelling for Dean to help him. He was still sobbing when Garth left the room, closing the door on the angel. Sam nodded in thanks and went in the other room to see Dean who had a feral grin on his face.

“Now what, little brother?”

“Now… I cure you.”

 

 

_To be continued…_


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Curing Dean of his demon might prove to be difficult. This is just the beginning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't have much to say, apart from being so grateful for you guys to be reading this little piece, leaving me comments, and showing me that you like it… 
> 
> I would love to say that the sufferings are done and that from now on it's all fluffy and nice and kittens running around chasing butterflies…
> 
> I'm so sorry…
> 
> .

The hunters were outside drinking beers, sitting around a campfire, grilling sausages and marshmallows. If it wasn’t for the yelling coming from the cabin, it could look like a group of friends having a nice time together. The screaming intensified when Sam opened the door to walk out, but instead of joining the hunters he sat down on the porch steps. It wasn’t even late but he was tired to the bone.

“How’s it going in there?” Garth asked, joining him on the steps.

“Not sure… too early to know if the cure will work on him.”

“I think it will, but it might just take longer, he’s pretty powerful,” Garth provided which granted him with a resigned sigh. “And Cas?”

“He’s a goner… the kid is messing with his mind.”

“Then… shouldn’t we kill him?”

Sam turned to look at Garth, trying to send him a warning glare but it mostly came out as a sad one. He shook his head before hiding his face in his hands.

“Dean will never forgive me if I kill Cas,” he explained in a muffled voice. “Not before he gets to talk to him and ask for forgiveness for what he’s done.”

“But it wasn’t him.”

“Doesn’t matter… not to my brother anyway. You know, I think he’s right when he says curing him might be a mistake. The things that he’s done…”

Instead of answering, Garth only grabbed his friend’s shoulder and gave it a comforting squeeze. There was nothing that he could say. He understood what Sam meant and he could easily imagine how himself would feel if he was to wake up one morning covered in the blood of an innocent. That was the reason he fought so hard against his new nature.

“How’s Sharon?” Sam asked, eager to change the subject.

“She’s alright, considering… Mark stitched her up and drove her back to the motel in town. If anything were to happen, it’d be best if she wasn’t here.”

“Is he coming back? Mark?”

“He said he would. He’s making a beer and food run so, yeah, he’d better,” Garth said, giving the hunter a soft smile. “Told him to buy some liver and spinach for you. You’ll need all the help you can get.”

“Seriously, Garth? Liver? I like healthy foods, but that’s just nasty… Iron supplements would have been enough.”

“Never as good as real meat, hombre… I got this recipe, I promise you’ll like it,” Garth smiled again.

Sam nodded once more, too tired to sustain a conversation. Garth seemed to understand as he gave him one last squeeze on the shoulder and walked back to the fire pit to sit with the other hunters. The younger Winchester stayed on the steps, trying to ignore the vociferations of the demon and the pleas of the angel.

He got up to walk to the clearing nearby, where the vehicles were parked. He felt the need to go take a look at his brother’s car again. The little he had seen when they arrived earlier was that it was a total wreck. Sam couldn’t help putting an apologetical hand on the roof of the Impala, mentally asking it for forgiveness for his brother’s neglect. He huffed a laugh at the ridicule of the thought, but it still helped soothe a bit of the ache in his heart.

•

Castiel was pulled from sleep by loud noises coming from outside his window. He could also feel someone untying his wrists from the bedposts. As soon as the second one was done, he opened his eyes and sat up, pulling on his legs to try and move them. He let out a pained roar when he realised they were still tied up.

“Take it easy, Cas, I’m not here to hurt you,” Sam said in a soothing voice.

“My ankles hurt,” Castiel snarled, sending a dark glare to the hunter.

“I’m sorry. We needed time to secure the room. We’re almost done,” he explained, nodding towards the noise. Outside, Mark and Gerald, another hunter, were bolting iron bars over the window.

“So what, I’m your prisoner now? Free will my ass…”

“I hate seeing you tied up, Cas. But we can’t take the chance of having you run away on us. You’ll have free range but only in this room and its ensuite. And yes, we’ll be putting bars on the bathroom window as well.”

Castiel huffed in contempt and let his body fall back down on the mattress. Sam had a full view of the angel’s naked form and he was mesmerized by the pregnant belly. Even though it was right in front of him, he still had trouble wrapping his head around the fact that his friend, his male friend, was carrying a baby. And he was relieved to see that his breasts had only become softer but not so much bigger that he’d need a bra or something. Hating the flow of images the thought triggered, he shook his head as if to get rid of them.

“Enjoying the view, Sam?” Castiel asked with some sort of leering smirk.

“What? Hell, Cas, no! Shit, I’m sorry. It’s just—”

“I don’t care if you look.”

“Would you like some clothes?” Sam asked, mentally scolding himself to not have offered before now.

“That could be nice…” Castiel answered. “Can I go see him?”

Of course, Sam knew who Castiel was referring to.

“It’s not a good idea, Cas. He’s not in a good place. And you’re not either.”

“Are you going to kill my baby?”

Sam hesitated. “I… I’d love to say no…”

“It would be a mistake, Sam. My child is not evil, I know it now.”

“You told me you’d be like that. I didn’t believe you.”

“Like what?”

“You wanted me to kill you and the child, do you remember that?”

“Of course. But that was me being scared. I’m not scared anymore, Sam.”

The hunter looked at his friend, sadness clouding his features. Castiel had that faraway blissed-out look about him again, as if God Himself was making googly eyes at him. He was tempted to grab the angel and shake him but he knew it wouldn’t change anything. He was also tempted to just get it over with, end the lives of the monster and its matrix. Because that’s all Cas was now… a matrix, a vessel, a fucking petri dish.

The only thing stopping him was the demon in the other room. And Sam wished he wouldn’t have to take care of the child before his brother could be human again.

 

 

_To be continued…_


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Uninvited guests arrive at the cabin, ready to kill anything and anyone that will stand in their way to the pregnant angel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’ll be putting the finishing touches to this story today… I’ve been having problems writing the very last chapter… I told you before, it's not a happy ending… but it’s certainly an emotional one. But there'll be no delay, I only want to make I make it good enough for you guys.
> 
> Did I tell you how much I appreciated you? I probably haven’t today… So I do… My heart flutters at the thought of you guys reading, and liking this little disturbing story of mine. And of course, your comments give me life…
> 
> I hope you’ll like this chapter, and again, thank you so very much for being there! See you tomorrow!
> 
> .

Gerald was the first one to notice the suits walking towards them. He was sitting next to the fire pit with Garth and Elena – the only remaining hunters – just as they had been doing pretty much every evening for the last month.

At first, the hunter thought the real owners of the cabin were coming to ask what the hell was going on. Then he remembered Sam saying he had found an old man’s body ditched in the woods behind the house. He sent a questioning glare to Garth, who turned around just in time to see the three strangers let angel blades fall into their hands.

“In the house,” yelled Garth, dashing towards the cabin.

But of course, trying to outrun an angel was pretty useless. One of them manifested right in front of Gerald and burnt the life right out of him. Elena just had time to scream in horror before she herself was stabbed in the back by a second one. Having heard the commotion, Sam had grabbed his own blade and ran out of the cabin, killing the first angel before calling Garth over.

He ran as fast as possible, but again, angels… When one appeared before him with his blade raised, he sent a quick apology to his wife and closed his eyes, waiting for the fatal blow. Instead, he felt someone tug on his arm and pull him forward. The angel was dead on the ground and Sam was dragging the werewolf to the house.

The third angel wasn’t fast enough and materialized at the bottom of the stairs right when the hunters had started climbing them. The whole cabin had been warded against angels, making the attacker unable to follow them.

“What do you want?” yelled Sam at the remaining angel.

“We want the child. Give us Castiel,” the unknown angel ordered.

“Over my dead body,” growled Sam, menacing him with his angel blade.

“That might be arranged. I’m not going anywhere. And neither are you,” the angel replied, confining his blade again and situating himself in front of the porch, arms crossed on his chest.

In the distance, more people were walking towards the cabin. Sam grabbed Garth’s arm and pulled him inside the house, regretting that he had not picked up the dead angels’ weapons when he had the chance.

“So now what?” Garth asked, standing in front of the window to keep an eye on the figures gathering around the house.

“I know what I’ll do… I’ll keep trying to cure Dean. The angels can’t come in here so we should be alright.”

“You think your demon friend could help us out?”

“Who? Crowley? Believe me, I’d rather not ask him anything. I’ve had to deal with him too much already.”

“But—”

“Garth, please,” Sam snapped, not looking at the werewolf. “If push comes to shove, maybe I will, but right now we don’t need him. I’ll be with Dean.”

When he opened the door to Dean’s holding room, he was greeted by a snarl.

“Is it time for my medication, doc?” he asked, the bite in his words not as strong as it was before.

“You know it… How are you feeling?” he asked, assessing the bullet wounds’ bandages.

Sam had taken out the bullets and stitched him up, knowing that a human Dean would probably die if they stayed in. He had been careful not to make the tattoo complete again, since Crowley had told him how it made Dean impervious to the devil’s traps.

“Just peachy... how ‘bout you?”

“How’s your humanity coming?”

“Your blood must not be pure enough ‘cause I still wish I could be bathing in your entrails,” the demon offered with a ferocious smile.

“I think my blood’s pure enough… you’re talking to me, that’s something.”

Dean sent his brother a dark glare and, because he felt he needed to, he growled, his upper lip pursed to show some teeth. It didn’t impress Sam much as he got closer and grabbed his brother’s head to cant it, exposing his neck. The needle went in easily and the blood was pushed inside.

“There you go,” Sam said, taking his hand off Dean. “Told you I’m not giving up on you.”

“I wish you did…”

“Nah… Us Winchesters, we’re pig-headed that way. You don’t—”

Sam was interrupted by another one of Castiel’s screaming fit. If usually he was keeping silent, once in a while he’d lose it and start calling for Dean to come and deliver him. He’d rattle the locked door, throw things around, he even broke the window when he threw a chair through it. Fortunately, the iron bars hadn’t budged.

“What?” Sam said to his brother after seeing he was talking, just not loud enough to be heard over the clatter.

“Make him stop,” Dean yelled, sending a teary-eyed glare at his brother.

At the sight, Sam’s heart nearly stopped. Could the cure finally be working?

“Stop what, Dean?” his younger brother asked, looking at him intently.

“Make the bitch stop whaling,” Dean snarled, his eyes turning black but only for a second. “Make him stop,” he said again in a throaty voice.

“Alright Dean, I’ll go check on him. Just… relax, alright?”

The demon didn’t answer, instead bringing his chin down to his chest and breathing heavily. Sam left the room and went to Garth who was standing next to Castiel’s door.

“He’s really tearing up the room,” the werewolf commented with a nod towards the door.

“Yeah… but I think that’s a good thing.” Seeing Garth perplexed expression, Sam explained. “It’s apparently making Dean crazy to hear Cas like that.”

“Well, he’s pretty loud.”

“No, I mean… I think it hurts him. He pretty much begged me to make Cas stop just now. The cure’s starting to work.”

“Maybe, yeah. So, are you going in there or am I?”

“I’ll go,” Sam offered, bracing himself. “Cas! I’m coming in, alright? Calm down.”

“Fuck you,” the angel answered before a crashing sound was heard.

“Come on, man. Think about your baby. You don’t want to hurt it, do you?” deciding that staying outside the room might be a better idea after all.

The thrashing sounds quickly stopped, as did the yelling.

“Would you like some food, Cas? We can make macaroni and cheese.”

“No… I’m tired, I’ll sleep now,” Castiel said, sounding like he was further in the room. He probably had gone back to bed.

“Alright… just tell us when you’re hungry, alright?”

There was no answer from the angel this time but Sam didn’t mind so much. He was too excited about the change he’d seen in his brother. He was tempted to go back there and pump some more blood into him but he knew he had to wait a couple of hours still.

“So… we have any meat left?” Garth asked Sam, thinking about the mac and cheese with a disgusted pout.

“The pasta’s for us, Garth… got some bloody steak for you,” Sam confirmed with a smile, his heart lighter for the first time since forever.

 

 

_To be continued…_


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Food and supplies are running low and they can’t do anything about it with the angels surrounding them. In order to complete his brother’s curing, Sam will have to ask for Crowley’s help again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys, I’m so nervous… the end is coming and it’s making me anxious. Only four chapters to go after this one. It’s finished, down to final editing… and just a head’s up, it’ll be getting sad, and heart wrenching… Well, it was for me so… yeah.
> 
> I’ll never thank you enough for following me on this little adventure, letting me take our beloved characters and gutting them and turning their skin inside out. Your kind words and kudos are the highlight of my days.
> 
> So… just… thank you!!! 
> 
> .

“You know, I could go and kill them for you.”

Sam looked up from the bible he was reading and sent a confused stare to his brother.

“The angels,” he specified, wiggling a bit on his chair. “And couldn’t you keep me on the bed instead of this damn chair? My ass hurts…”

“I’m not letting you out of the trap, Dean. Nice try though,” Sam said before going back to his reading.

Dean exhaled loudly and started tapping his foot, making the chains from his shackles rattle. Seeing the noise had no effect on his brother, Dean stopped, exhaling again.

“Why are you reading this crap? You know it’s all bullshit, right?” he then asked with an amused snort.

“What is it you want, Dean?” Sam asked with a smile, knowing full well his brother was only trying to get a rise out of him.

“Nothing… just bored, I guess.”

Abandoning his book, Sam got up and walked towards his brother, taking the bottle of holy water with him.

“You don’t need that, Sammy… I didn’t do anything. I’ll shut up, alright?” Dean pleaded.

Sam hesitated, but only for a second. He uncapped the bottle and poured a little on his brother’s head. It didn’t seem to hurt him at all and there was close to no smoke rising from his scalp. They were close.

“See? I’m not much of a demon anymore. Lemme go out and kill the angels, alright? Then Garth can go buy some more food, yeah? Or I could go…”

“And what are you going to kill them with?”

“My blade, Sam… it can kill _anything_.”

“You’re not touching that weapon again, you can forget about that. You’ll just revert back to what you were.”

“I won’t Sammy, I swear.”

Going to the dresser in the corner of the room, Sam grabbed the elastic band and one of the syringes. Securing the band on his arm, he flexed his hand a couple of times before jamming the needle in one of the protruding veins. He untied the elastic with his mouth, the blood flowing in the barrel.

“Why don’t you just kill me Sammy? Please?” Dean begged. “Everything hurts so much.”

“Welcome back to humanity, Dean,” Sam declared, injecting his blood into his brother’s neck.

“Fuck you,” Dean answered, but it didn’t sound angry enough to be threatening.

Without responding, Sam put the empty syringe back on the dresser and went to sit on the bed. He would have liked to go and see how Cas was doing but he knew that if there were to be any changes in Dean, they would happen in the next minute or so. So he waited, keeping his eyes on his brother who was hunched on his chair, looking at his feet. Soon, Sam noticed his brother’s hands. They were trembling.

“Dean?” Sam asked in a soft tone.

“You gotta stop, Sammy,” Dean croaked, still looking down.

“Stop what?”

“Curing me…”

“Why?”

“You know why,” Dean said after a couple of minutes, raising his head to look at his brother.

Even though tears were streaming down Dean’s face, Sam couldn’t help but smile a little when he saw him. Not that he was happy to see his brother miserable, but it did mean that the cure was working. And unlike what happened with Crowley, Sam would make sure he’d finish the job. His brother would be human once again.

“God… what have I done…” Dean whined before letting out a pained sob.

“It’ll be okay,” Sam felt the need to say, but he knew his brother. It probably wouldn’t.

Dean didn’t say anything and hung his head low again.

“Dean!”

Both men were startled by Castiel’s desperate cry. Sam was hoping that the angel would have been sleeping but it apparently wasn’t the case. Every time Sam would give blood to his brother, it was as if Cas could feel it and he would make a fuss. Garth and Sam had surmised that the baby was somehow connected to Dean and he could feel the demon in him dying. And if the kid could feel it…

“Dean,” the angel screamed again, louder.

They heard Garth opening Castiel’s door and the low rumbles of their conversation, then the door closing back again. Soon after, there was a knock on Dean’s door.

“Sam, Cas wants to speak to you. I tried but—”

“It’s alright, Garth, I’ll go. Thanks!”

With a last glance towards his brother, Sam got off the bed and exited the room. Dean was obstinately looking downward, still shaking. When he got to the next room, Sam unlatched the lock Garth had diligently secured again and opened the door, praying that the angel was not waiting to throw something at his head. He was relieved to see him sitting cross-legged on the bed, both hands resting on his belly.

“You wanted to talk to me?” he asked, still cautious enough not to come too close. He had been fooled before, resulting in Garth having to stitch Sam’s forehead because of the lamp Cas had thrown at his face.

“I think Dean should see his baby… you know, feel him move.”

“You know it’s impossible.”

“It’s not _impossible_. You don’t want to, which is entirely different.”

“Alright… I don’t want to.”

“But why? He’s the father, he has rights you know.”

Sam was certainly not in the mood to start arguing with the angel about parenting rights. Especially when there shouldn’t be any parenting involved.

“Anything else I can do for you?” Sam asked, getting ready to close the door on Castiel.

“You could go back to hell,” the angel snarled, grabbing the book that was lying on the bed. Sam just had time to close the door before hearing the thump of the book on the wood. “Fuck you, Sam Winchester,” Castiel yelled.

“I can’t wait for Dean to be cured so we can get rid of this child,” Sam told Garth, coming to sit with him in the living room.

“Getting rid of Cas, you mean,” Garth offered back, a sympathetic look on his face.

“Don’t you think I know that?” Sam replied, sending him a dark glare

“So, how’s your brother doing? Any improvements?” Garth asked, preferring not to have words with the hunter.

“Yeah… the holy water didn’t do much damage earlier and when I left the room, he was crying. So I’d say he’s losing major demon points.”

“Are you sure he’ll be cured before Cas goes into labour?”

“Ha! Labour… pretty sure the kid would pop out of him like that thing in Alien,” Sam hissed, heavy hearted.

“Sorry… wrong choice of words. But you know what I mean.”

“Yeah, I know. We’ll have to monitor Cas closely… if he gets close to be… popping it out… we’ll have to kill it. Before it’s born that is. I kind of suspect that once it’s out of Cas, it’ll be indestructible.”

“What makes you think that it is destructible now?”

“Cas… he didn’t say as much but… I don’t know, maybe I should have killed him when he asked.”

“Maybe… too late now and regrets won’t help, Sam.”

“I know. The angels are still out there?”

“They haven’t moved an inch. And we’re pretty much out of food now. I don’t think we’d like me to run out of meat.”

“Damn it,” Sam spat, taking his phone from his pocket. He thumbed to the King of Hell’s name and selected it.

“Well hello, Moose. Wonder what you want this time…” the demon answered on the first ring.

“We’re besieged by angels, we can’t go anywhere.”

“And I care because…?”

“We’re kind of running low on food and stuff.”

“What am I? Your bloody gofer?” Crowley spat in the phone.

“Look, if I had any other solution, I wouldn’t be calling you. The angels want the kid alive.”

“Of course they do, those moronic sheeps. Just kill the kid already, they’ll leave you alone.”

“I told you I need to cure Dean first. And to do this, I need to not be dying of inanition… or be eaten alive by a werewolf,” Sam added with a shrug and a sheepish smile towards Garth. But his friend apparently didn’t mind, giving him a huge grin and two thumbs up in response.

“Bullocks! You’re gonna owe me so big, Moose. I’d better be getting your soul when you’re done with living.”

“You probably will, with what I’ll have to do to Cas. Now, we need a whole lot of meat, hearts if you can manage it… _animal_ hearts, that is,” Sam specified, knowing that Crowley just might bring them human remains to mess with them. “And—”

“Look, you’ll get what I bring you, alright? How many angels are there?”

“Not sure, they’re circling the place so… maybe a dozen, maybe more…”

“Fucking dandy… Prepare yourselves for a carnage, then.”

 

 

_To be continued…_


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Calling Crowley for help is a bad idea, but angering the angels is an even worse one. Sam doesn’t care, he has a brother to save.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like I should say stuff about this chapter, and what’s to come tomorrow but… I wouldn’t want to spoil anything so…
> 
> I’ll just say thank you, to each and everyone of you, dear readers… Thank you for being there, reading, liking and commenting.
> 
> .

Crowley had been right when he spoke of a carnage.

Sam and Garth didn’t have to wait for more than an hour before feeling the earth rumble, at first wondering if there was an earthquake. The daylight suddenly dimmed and the hunters ran to the window to see that the sky had suddenly filled with black clouds… swirling black clouds.

“Tornado?” Garth breathed, keeping his eyes to the sky.

“Demons…” Sam replied, looking at the angels instead of the clouds. They too knew demons were coming and had let their blades fall into their hands.

Soon, it was war outside of the cabin, angels and demons battling each other. Angels were killing more demons than the contrary, but more importantly Crowley was able to smoke into the cabin unnoticed by the angels. And even with the horrors going on outside, Sam had to try real hard not to laugh at the sight of the King of Hell holding standing there in his fancy suit with grocery bags in his hands.

“Yeah, you laugh it up, Moose! Let me remind you that your little hideaway isn’t warded against us,” the demon threatened, dropping the bags on the kitchen table. “I could just and go take care of the angel myself, you know?”

“What do you take us for? You can’t access Castiel’s room, and he can’t come out. So, you know—”

“Whatever. Are we done here?”

“Looks all good,” Garth said after going through the bags, holding a packaged beef heart in his hand.

“Thanks, Crowley. I won’t call on you again.”

“Before I go, I was wondering… what are you going to do with the blade?”

“What blade?”

“Don’t play dumb with me, mate. Cain’s blade.”

“We’ll destroy it.”

“You can’t!”

“I most certainly can. We can’t risk anyone using that thing again.”

“No, you stupid cow. I mean you _can’t_ , as in, it’s impossible,” Crowley vociferated.

“We’ll find a way… or we’ll make sure it’s hidden properly.”

“Or I could—”

“Hell no! You’re never getting your hands on that thing again.”

“Really, Moose? I’m still the King of Hell, I don’t think you can do much against me.”

“You wanna take the chance?” Sam replied with a smirk, raising the Colt he had hidden in the back of his pants.

He found it in a warded box at the bottom of the Impala’s trunk, just as he had been suspecting. When he brought it in the cabin, he prayed he wouldn’t have to use it on his own brother. Fortunately, it seemed it could be Crowley who’d be eating _that_ bullet.

“You still have that old thing?” the demon asked with a snort. But Sam knew that it was all bravado as his eyes had widened in alarm. “Alright, have it your way, but if the kid gets born and kills you all, I’ll be waiting in hell to say I told you so,” the demon spat before smoking out through the chimney.

The remaining demons followed their King, leaving former vessels of both demons and angels to decay on the lawn. The surviving angels drew closer to the cabin. The one that had almost killed Garth on that first day was the one to come the closest, stopping right at the foot of the stairs.

“Sam Winchester,” he called in a thunderous voice. When the hunter didn’t answer, he talked again, anger lacing his words. “Sam Winchester, your association with the King of Hell has caused my brothers to die. We are holding you personally responsible and we will terminate you. Unless you give us Castiel. Do this and we will leave you and your brother alone.”

Again, Sam didn’t answer.

“Alright, have it your way. But don’t say we didn’t warn you,” the angel said again before disappearing.

The other angels did the same, leaving them alone, or so it seemed. But Sam knew they could also have only gone invisible and he certainly wasn’t setting a foot outside to find out. Instead he went to the grocery bags Crowley had brought and started putting the food away. It wasn’t as bad as Sam had feared. There were a couple of nice steaks along with Garth’s supply of beef hearts. But he had to laugh at a bottle he found in one of the bags.

“Check it out, Garth… iron supplements,” he said, amused.

“Wow… pretty considerate for a demon. He must like you,” Garth offered with a smile.

“Nah… he just knows that to have the job done, I need all the help I can get. He wouldn’t have done any of this if it didn’t benefit him in some way.”

“You’re probably right… so, about the angels?”

“I don’t know, Garth. I can’t worry about that now.”

Garth nodded, then went to one of the cabinets to grab a plate. When Sam saw his friend grab one of the beef hearts, he decided he didn’t want to see that, figuring it was time for Dean’s next injection anyway. He went to his brother’s room without a word, closing the door behind himself. Dean hadn’t moved much, still hunched with his face in his hands. He didn’t even move when Sam came in. Without a word, Sam grabbed everything to draw some more of his blood again.

Dean was compliant, didn’t even flinch when Sam inserted the needle in his neck. This time Sam sat on the edge of the bed, right in front of his brother. Soon, he could see his brother shivering again. Then his right arm started to twitch. Curious, Sam got back up and grabbed Dean’s arm, pulling up the sleeve to check on the mark. Had he not known it was there, he wouldn’t have seen it. It had almost entirely disappeared.

“Dean?” Sam asked.

“I’m tired…” his brother mumbled.

“I know… I’m sorry Dean. It’ll be all over soon,” Sam promised.

He went back to sit on the bed and grabbed the bible again, only because he didn’t have anything else to read.

 

 

_To be continued…_


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time is running out. Sam and Garth think it’s time for them to handle Castiel’s "problem". Someone’s not agreeing with that plan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Only two more to go after this… I promised suffering and I intend to deliver. (you might understand how after you read this chapter.)
> 
> Still love you all! I guess I just needed some more drama in my life…
> 
> Toodles! See you again tomorrow! xx
> 
> .

“Cas says his belly hurts,” Garth announced when Sam came in the kitchen the next morning.

Without answering, the younger Winchester went straight for the coffee machine to pour himself a cup before coming to sit with his friend.

“Was it contractions?” he asked, wondering if Garth would even know.

“Not sure… But, from what I could see, it wasn’t coming and going like I imagine they should be. Do you think—”

“It’s too soon,” Sam replied in a low voice.

“We don’t know that, there’s nothing normal here. Maybe seven months will be enough for what Cas is cooking.”

“I know…”

“And how is your brother coming along?”

“He’s been pretty unresponsive since yesterday. I keep injecting him with blood but he hasn’t said a single word for, like, fifteen hours.”

“But he’s alive?”

“Yeah yeah, of course. Just… catatonic or something.”

The hunters stopped talking and sipped on their coffees, lost in thought. Both knew what else they would have to talk about, and soon, but neither of them wanted to be the first to voice it out. Still, maybe because he wasn’t as emotionally invested, Garth cleared his throat and spoke first.

“I think it’s time, Sam,” he just said, knowing his friend would understand what he meant.

“Time for what?” Sam asked anyway, keeping his eyes on his coffee mug.

“We gotta kill Cas, Sam… we can’t take the—”

“You’re not killing Cas.”

Both Garth and Sam jumped up from their seats at the sound of Dean’s voice, turning around with their guns drawn in front of them. The demon was standing in the main room, unshackled.

“How did you get out?” Sam asked, cursing himself that the Colt was out of reach.

“How do you think? Not a demon,” Dean replied, showing them the bottle of holy water Sam kept in Dean’s room. He opened it and drank, emptying the bottle with a few gulps.

“That could be a trick,” Garth said, taking his own flask of holy water from his back pocket and throwing the content at Dean’s face.

“Happy now?” Dean said, wiping the water with his hand. He walked past them to go grab a cup of coffee.

“What do you mean, we’re not killing Cas?” Sam asked, not ready yet to let his guard down.

“I mean you guys are not killing him… I am,” Dean replied, averting his eyes.

“Why?”

“Because I did this… I have… I have to end it.”

Sam and Garth lowered their weapons at the cured demon’s broken voice.

“Dean, you don’t have to. You’ll never forgive yourself if—” Sam started.

“You think I can forgive myself now? The things I’ve done to him… you don’t even know, Sam. I owe him as much.”

“But you have to know that he’s not himself,” Garth supplied, sitting back at the table to face his friend, resting his gun on the table.

“No, I know. I fucking broke him,” Dean spat, his eyes drawn to the firearm. He saw his brother’s hand twitch when he noticed what he was looking at. “Garth, put the gun away, it’s making Sam nervous.”

Garth obliged, putting it back in his holster.

“What Garth means is that the foetus is pretty much controlling him now. He’s still Cas, but… extremely motherly and protective.”

“Yeah, I know… I could… I could feel it.”

“You think you can do this?” Sam asked his brother, giving him the most sympathetic look he could muster. “Because, you know… Emma?”

“Who’s Emma?” Garth asked, seeing how the name had made Dean’s face fall.

“Long story,” Sam only provided, thinking it wasn’t the best time to start swapping stories. “So, Dean? Are you sure you’re good?”

“I have to, Sammy. I need to. I have to save him.”

Sam nodded, getting up to go grab the angel blade from the duffel near the door. He caught sight of the jawbone at the bottom of the bag and made sure it was hidden properly, hoping Dean couldn’t sense its presence. Which was probably the case seeing how the mark had completely disappeared from his forearm.

“You can work with this?” he asked, showing the blade to his brother.

Dean lifted his head and swallowed loudly when he saw the angel blade, tears welling up in his eyes. Even from where he stood, Sam could see his brother starting to shiver. Apparently the thought of killing the angel did not sit with him as well as he wanted them to believe.

“Dean, it’s alright if you can’t… I can do it,” Sam offered, feeling his own eyes prickle with tears.

“I have to… I can’t do anything for all… all those girls… but this… I _have_ to do this…” Dean stuttered, shivering even harder now.

“Fine… but you’re not doing this now, alright? Let’s clean you up, feed you, and maybe get a drink or two in you, okay?” Sam said, putting the angel blade back in the duffel before going to his other bag and grabbing some clothes. “I brought some of your stuff, in case… you know…”

“Thanks, Sammy… yeah, I think a shower’s a good idea… and food…” he muttered before going to grab the clothes, his eyes set on anything but his brother’s face.

“Dean—” Sam tried.

“I won’t take long.”

When Dean had left, both Sam and Garth waited for the shower to start running before talking again, trying to keep their voices as low as possible.

“Do you really think it’s a good idea? Sending Dean to kill Castiel?” Garth asked, a worried frown on his face.

“I’m not sure, to be honest. But I know my brother, and I believe him when he says that he needs to do this. I found Cas after Dean got to him the first time. If he hadn’t had a bit of grace left, he would have been dead. That’s not something he’ll forgive himself any time soon.”

“And killing him now will help?”

“Cas didn’t want this kid to be born, whatever he might be saying now. So yeah, I think that killing him and the kid is something Dean believes he can do to redeem himself.”

“You think it’ll work?”

“Frankly? No, I don’t… but I’ll let him do it anyway.”

 

 

_To be continued…_


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It has to be done…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really didn’t know how to summarize this chapter… So I went for the truth.
> 
> I said I wouldn’t be sorry, but that was not the truth. I am sorry… I would NEVER want to see this in the show, I swear. Unless… nah, I really don’t.
> 
> Thank you for reading, I hope you’ll like it. See you tomorrow for the final chapter.
> 
> .

The sun was setting when Castiel heard a soft knock on his door, waking him up from his nap. Since Sam and his friends had barged into their home, the demon hadn’t come back to see him so Cas was spending his days lounging in bed, looking out the window, and taking baths. And sometimes he threw fits because it wasn’t fair that he couldn’t be with the father of his baby. His miracle baby…

“Cas?” Dean said, opening the door and peaking his head inside the room.

“Dean,” Castiel let out with a choked sob, sitting up in the bed. He wanted to get up and run towards him but Dean would hate him being all clingy.

He knew the demon in Dean had being eradicated, but Castiel still felt like he belonged to him. It had been a while since he had come to him and he knew he should have kept on keeping himself open, just in case. Now if he wanted to claim him again, it would hurt. Still, he started to undo the buttons of the shirt Sam had lent him, hoping Dean wouldn’t be mad not to find him already naked and expectant.

“Cas, don’t…” Dean breathed, walking towards the bed.

The angel stilled his hands, tilting his head in confusion. He started working on the buttons again, half of them already undone.

“Please…” Dean choked, sitting on the bed and grabbing Castiel’s hands to stop him, swallowing loudly when he felt the angel flinch. “Please keep your clothes on, alright?”

“You don’t like it when I’m covered,” Cas replied in a low trembling voice.

“That… that was the demon, Cas. He’s gone. He’s not gonna hurt you again… I… I’m not gonna hurt you again.”

The lie left a bitter taste in Dean’s mouth. Looking at him in disbelief, Castiel pulled his hands from his hold, then started to disrobe again.

“You should see your child, Dean,” he explained before the hunter could stop him again.

Dean nodded, unwilling to anger the angel and, if he had to be honest, he was a bit curious. As a demon, he never cared about his prisoner's transformation. When Castiel opened the plaid shirt to reveal his abdomen, Dean’s breath hitched. Unable to stop himself, he sent both of his hands to rest softly on the round stomach. He rubbed slow circles on the skin, rapt in wonder.

“God… so amazing…” Dean murmured, his eyes not leaving the distent skin adorned with angry pink stretch marks.

“He knows you’re here,” Castiel announced after a small move under the skin startled Dean, making him still his hands. “You won’t let Sam kill Him, will you?”

“Sam is not going to kill him,” Dean confirmed, the half-truth not tasting any better than the lies, the bitterness heavy on his tongue.

After buttoning the angel’s shirt back up, Dean brought Castiel to lie on the bed facing each other. In any other circumstances, he might have preferred to go with another position, but he didn’t think spooning was appropriate to say what he had to say. He needed eye contact, wanted Cas to know that everything he’d be telling him would be the truth.

So Dean let his green eyes catch onto the angel’s blue ones and focused on them, gently brushing his fingers on the stubbled jaw. He tried not to think about the fear and hate he had induced in his angel during those nightmarish months. The hunter knew he would never forget those looks but right now, what he needed to convey was all the love he could summon.

He didn’t know what kind of love it was, and he didn’t want to put a name on it. Not right now. All he knew was that this man, that same one who had given everything up for him, was now condemned by his fault. And nothing in the world could ever make that alright.

“I’m so sorry, Cas…” Dean whispered.

“Sorry for what?” Castiel replied just as softly, making Dean’s heart sink.

“For hurting you… making you do… for this…”

“The miracle was worth the sacrifice.”

Even though he sounded sincere, Dean could feel the tremors in the angel’s body. In his eyes was an underlying apprehension. Whatever the baby was doing to Castiel, it couldn’t erase the hurt and fear entirely. Dean tried to make it all better by taking him in his arms and cuddling him. It had the adverse effect, making the angel’s tremors even worse.

“Why don’t you want me anymore?” Castiel asked, shrinking away from the hunter’s hold.

“I want… I just want to hold you… please,” Dean said, trying to pull him close again.

“Don’t you want to… to fuck me?”

“Cas, no, Jesus! You deserve so much better. You deserve comfort… and affection… let me give it to you, alright?”

Confusion was prominent in Castiel’s gaze, but he nodded anyway, letting the hunter bring their bodies together once more. He was still trembling so Dean draped the blanket over their bodies, even though he knew the tremors had nothing to do with the temperature of the room. He brought their foreheads together and started talking, their breaths mixing together.

“Cas… I want you to listen to me. Whatever you think you might know or feel right now, it’s all lies. The kid is messing with your brain,” Dean said before softly kissing Castiel to stop him from interrupting. “Let me say what I need to say, please,” he pleaded, getting a slight nod in response.

“I wish I could dismiss it all, saying it was the demon fault and forget about it. But I can’t… I won’t… I’ll never be able to forgive myself for what I’ve done to you. If only…”

Dean couldn’t go on, the lump in his throat getting dangerously big. He kissed Castiel again, chastely, a gentle press of his lips on the angel’s, his thumb delicately caressing the stubbled chin. His demon self never kissed Castiel, only interested on keeping the action on the lower parts of their bodies. Which might have been why Cas was unresponsive to the tender gesture.

With a sigh, Dean drew back his lips but kept his hand on the angel’s face. He didn’t want to stop touching him, not yet. So they stayed this way for a while, forehead to forehead, their eyes locked together. On a couple of occasions, Castiel tried to go back to what he had been led to believe was his purpose, trying to unbutton Dean’s jeans or palming his dick through the fabric. Every time, Dean refused the advances, gently taking his hand off him.

After a while, Castiel seemed to understand and stopped trying, relaxing a little in his hold. But Dean couldn’t relax, not with the knowledge of what he’d have to do. So he kept on stroking the angel’s stubbled jaw, murmuring soft words, peppering his face with light kisses.

When the angel seemed to have fallen into a slumber, Dean swallowed heavily, taking his hand off his face to grab the angel blade he had hidden under his clothes. The metallic weapon felt like ice in his hand, sending shivers through his whole body.

When he kissed Castiel again, it was on the lips and desperate, his face damp with tears.

He felt like his own heart was dying when he plunged the blade in the swollen abdomen. The enraged cry Castiel let out when he felt the weapon pierce his skin had to be the most heartbreaking thing Dean had ever heard. But he didn’t stop or pull the blade out, knowing that if he hesitated just a little, he’d lose the little courage he had been able to muster. Instead he twisted the blade and sliced down, making sure to annihilate the thing growing inside of the angel.

Castiel’s scream was loud, a mix of rage and pain as he felt the life dying inside of him. Dean didn’t scream, instead mumbling incessant apologies and sobbing. The blood was warm, oozing from the gaping wound, staining the bed and both men lying on it. Dean kept his eyes closed, incapable of watching the life evade his best friend.

“I… Dean…” Castiel croaked.

The angel’s tone was all it took to make the hunter open his eyes again, almost against his will. What he saw was the Castiel he once knew, his friend, his savior… the one he loved.

“Don’t… don’t blame yourself…” Castiel sputtered, bringing a bloody hand to Dean’s cheek, stroking it gently.

“Cas…” Dean gasped, his heart in his throat. “I’m sor… sorry… I—”

“Shhhh…” Castiel interrupted him, this time himself pressing his dry lips over the hunter’s. “I know… forgiven…” he murmured, their lips still touching slightly.

“God… I wish… Damn it… Cas…”

“It’s… It’s dead… you did… you did good… thank you,” the angel said, his shivering intensifying and his speech becoming low and drowsy.

“Cas… fuck…” Dean groaned, trembling.

“I… lo… I love…” Castiel tried to say, his eyes closing.

“No, Cas! Please… I can’t… god… talk to me,” Dean gasped, finally taking the blade out to throw it on the floor then grabbing the angel’s face with both hands, kissing the now bloody lips. “Cas,” he whimpered, feeling like his insides were filling up with concrete.

The body, limp against his, was still alive but barely. The only real sign of activity was the faint breaths Dean could feel on his own lips that were now painted red and tasted like copper. “Sorry I couldn’t love you right,” he breathed into the angel’s mouth.

When the very last breath of Castiel was exhaled, Dean caught it on his tongue and swallowed it, promising himself to always remember the combined taste of his angel’s blood and death.

 

 

_To be continued…_


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The deed is done… now what?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here it is… this is the end… and I think that for Dean, it is the beginning of the end. But I won’t write about it. I guess you guys can choose to see how it goes from now on.
> 
> I do have my own idea, but I think that I’ve been cruel enough so I will keep it to myself. 
> 
> Thank you so so so so much for reading this little nightmare of mine, sharing your thoughts with me and giving me kudos. I was afraid it would be too much, but I am pleasantly surprised, and elated, of the response I got.
> 
> Next time I get some horrifying idea, I might not be so reticent to write about it. (not now, I’m good, got some ideas but nothing so dramatic)
> 
> So again, thank you! It was a marvelous adventure. Don’t hesitate if you have questions or wanna say hi!
> 
> [My Tumblr](http://marmeladyorange.tumblr.com/)
> 
> .

Dean didn’t come out of Castiel’s room until dawn. His clothes were stained with blood, as were his hands and face. Sam had dozed off on the sofa in the main room and Garth wasn’t anywhere to be seen, probably sleeping in the other room.

Instead of waking his brother up, he went out the front door to go on the porch, hesitating only a second before walking down the stairs, leaving the angel-proof zone.

“Castiel is gone,” Dean yelled to the sky, arms widespread. “Come and make me pay for my crimes, you heartless dicks!”

To his own surprise, no angel appeared to burn the life out of him. So he yelled again, daring the angels to take revenge on him, begging them to come and smite his murderous ass. He screamed for a while until he couldn’t anymore, falling to his knees and sobbing with his face in his hands.

Dean was startled by a hand on his shoulder. He recognized his brother’s touch, the hand wide and heavy with compassion. Sam crouched next to his brother to take him in his arms, relieved to be permitted to do so. It took about half an hour for Dean to calm down and be able to stand up again, wiping the tears from his face. He looked at his brother and shook his head when he saw him on the verge of talking. Dean couldn’t speak of what happened. Not now, and probably not ever.

He got back inside and grabbed the duffel with the weapons and went to the room to grab the shackles and syringe kit. The noise he made woke up Garth but Dean was out of the room before the werewolf could say anything. He easily understood what was happening and got up to go to the main room to start gathering his things.

“You mind if I take the beef hearts?” he asked Sam, who only replied with a silent shrug.

When Sam was done putting his own bag together, he left the cabin to bring it to the car, not sure sure which car that would be. In the clearing, he saw Dean standing next to the Impala, still holding the bag of weapons. The sound of Sam coming up seemed to shake him out of his trance. He went to the trunk and opened it to throw the weapons inside.

“You’re riding with me or…?” Dean asked without looking at him, keeping the lid open.

“If that’s okay with you.”

“I don’t care…” Dean replied before grabbing the half empty jerrican from the trunk. “If you got any in your car, bring it,” he told his brother, not waiting for an answer before walking back to the cabin.

He didn’t a word to Garth when they crossed paths, only showing him the canister with a pointed look to which the werewolf answered with a slight nod. When Dean went back inside the house, he saw his brother had left a tee-shirt behind, probably for him to change into. He was tempted to keep the bloody shirt on, feeling the need to wear his crimes like that chick with the red A on her dress.

But he knew he couldn’t, so he went to the bathroom, taking off his clothes and folding the shirt delicately instead of chucking it on the ground like the rest. The water was cold and the shower’s pressure was close to inexistant, but Dean didn’t care. He just needed to wash off the blood of his angel so he could go back into the world without drawing too much attention to himself.

Even when the blood had washed off from his skin, he could still feel it, like burning stigmas all over his body. And oddly enough, he found it satisfying, relishing the pain even though it was invisible to the naked eye. This way he would be able to live as if he was alright, as if—

“Dean, are you okay?” Sam asked, knocking on the bathroom’s door.

“Yeah,” he groaned. “Almost done…”

Dean shut off the water and got out of the shower cabin, not even bothering to dry up before putting his stained jeans on. Instead, he used the towel to try and wipe off the dried blood from his pants, without much success. He put Sam’s tee-shirt on, glad that it was a bit big on his frame, his skin already too heavy with what he had done.

He grabbed his own folded tee-shirt and left the bathroom. On the opposite side of the room, Castiel’s door was still closed and Dean felt sick at the thought of what had happened in there. Still, there was a need deep in his gut to see the angel one last time. He walked to the door and gripped the handle, his throat too tight to let any air in.

“He’s not in there,” Sam said from behind him.

“Where is he?”

“He deserves a real hunter’s funeral so Garth is erecting a pyre outside. We’ll also burn Gerald’s and Elena’s corpses properly.”

“What about the others?” Dean asked, his hand still on the handle but breathing a little better.

“We’re bringing them inside the house, they’ll burn with it. Not that they don’t deserve—”

“No, I know… Is… Is Cas getting his own pyre?”

“Of course, and the others get their own too.”

“Good…”

Dean turned around and rushed past his brother to go outside where Garth was working on a first wood pile. Without a word, he went to him and grabbed the branches he was preparing to place on the heap, wanting to finish preparing Castiel’s funeral monument himself. Garth understood and recoiled, preparing the other pyres a little further away while Sam worked on bringing the angel’s and demon’s dead vessels inside the cabin.

They worked until midday, the sun at its zenith when Dean was finally satisfied with the wood structure that would be holding Castiel’s remains. He had even gone back inside to grab the artificial flowers decorating the main room to add them onto the pyre. Cas would have loved that, he was certain of it.

With a sigh, he took his friend’s wrapped body in his arms to deposit him on top of the structure. All he needed to do now was to soak the base with gasoline. Well, soaking was a strong word as the jerrican was almost empty, but he still poured the whole content on the wood and threw back the plastic container.

“Guys, Cas is ready…” he said to call Sam and Garth over.

He didn’t wait for them before flicking his lighter and throwing it on the pyre, which ignited immediately. The whooshing sound and sudden heat didn’t scare Dean and Sam had to grab his elbow to pull him away from the roaring fire. He kept his hand on his brother, transfixed by the flames getting closer to the blood-soaked sheet Castiel was wrapped in.

Garth paid his respects by sending a quiet prayer to the angel, then took upon himself to ignite the other funeral monuments. After offering his own silent goodbyes, Sam left Dean alone, joining Garth to pay his respects to the hunters who had died helping him and his brother.

When Dean felt a hand on his shoulder again, he dropped his head forward and sighed.

“Sam, I know you—”

“Not Sam…”

Dean jumped at the sound of the woman’s voice and turned around. Hannah was standing next to him, a tight smile on her face. Garth and Sam were already running towards them, ready to defend Dean’s life. But the hunter looked at them and shook his head, intimating them to stay away.

“I am not here to hurt him,” Hannah said loudly, keeping her eyes on Dean.

“Why not?” Dean asked, glad to see Sam and Garth obeying.

“What would killing you accomplish, Dean?”

“Nothing, I guess,” he answered, turning back to face the burning pyre.

They stayed silent, watching the former angel’s body being engulfed by the flames, the heat and smoke making the remaining linen flutter.

“Do you think I killed God?” Dean asked after a moment, a lump in his throat.

“I like to think that if the child had indeed been God, you wouldn’t have been able to kill Him.”

“Do all angels think the same way you do?”

Hannah didn’t answer and took his hand in hers, squeezing it softly before turning her attention to the burning structure.

“Promise me something, Hannah…” Dean said after a while.

“I can try.”

“Make sure that when I die, I’ll go to Hell, alright?”

“Wouldn’t you rather join Castiel in—”

“Promise me,” he insisted, his voice nothing more than a whipser.

The angel decided not to question the hunter’s motives. Instead, she leaned towards him and kissed his cheek.

“I promise, Dean Winchester,” she said before disappearing.

Later that evening, when they left the burning cabin behind, Dean was smiling. It was thin lipped and faint, but it was still some kind of smile. And no matter how Sam prodded, Dean would never tell his brother the reason behind it. Because never in a million years would he ever understand why Dean was happy about his impending fate.

An eternity of damnation to pay for all the horrible things that he had done?

Easy as pie!

 

 

_— The End —_

**Author's Note:**

> Not beta'd
> 
> Copyrights all over the place
> 
> I was to update once every two days… turns out that if I want the whole story to be published before Season 10 starts, I'll have to give you guys a chapter per day… 
> 
> At that pace, it should take about three weeks to get the complete story…
> 
> See you tomorrow then!


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